Search results for 'buried in the grave multimedia track by all sons daughters' Page #34

son growing up
To sell dope on the block
I feel sorry for children that
Got parrents like that
They ain't got nobody to put
'em on the right track
Then

You’re the rug in the toilet!
A 24 service, they all love to visit.

So listen you fool, don’t go down that lane.
They see you, they’ll whip you, introduce

Nothing seems to appease them
 
In the last days
 
The Risen Son
 
Will wake the sleeping
 
 
CHORUS
 
 
Halloween
 
Instead 
 
Celebrate with The Living

A lyrical assassin accused of track harassing 
Pedal mashin' my passion is just to cash in 
Living in a box I had to learn to think up out it 
Musically I

bout to pick up steam any time I'm on a track
Still at the level where all the competition's unmatched
Still bout that action knocking the opposition

Hip Hop

Jigmastas

Phax N Phixion: Nu Hip-Hop Underground

1998

the way he grip the mic device, is he worth the price?
Most times I can't see his skills, it's microscopic
y'all niggaz ain't makin music son, ya need

to lender 
My money long, only short thing is my temper 
I drive by the shells, can't get caught in the fender
cnd I'm lucky that the law never caught

& tie, got ya bitch staring hard
cnd it's apparent y'all
Be faking it for the gram
I'm taking shit to the grave 
You taking shit to the stand
Satan could

Razorblade Smile

Machine Head

Catharsis

2018

a brick through your window and I'll kick in your teeth
I got a methadone twitch with a Vicodin itch
I'm smoking crank on a foil like a son of a bitch

celebrities who all claim you as fans
Or readjusting my music to parallel the new trend
Or go off first impressions and think I made a new friend
I'll prolly

the top of class wit a powdered nose, Starving garden wit no water how’d the flower grow
Mama stick by her son that’s the mother code, While he plotting wit

to wait form six till noon
By the time the doctor cam out the child died in the waiting room

Doctor, Doctor open up your door
Is my money or my life worth

just the funds, but the guns in the vest
No more fun, you've got sons to protect
The crackers wanna see you hung by the neck
What the fuck y'all

Like the Vatican Throne
I bring the life into a
Track like I'm Lazarus Home
So never fuck around with me
I'm a statue of stone

Digging graves by

to unveil all of the mysteries
Looking back at the tracks of a timeline
We rewind to find we're blind, never mind

Bring my wings and set sail for death