Lyrics:
their sphere of possession of the trees
Of birds' hung havens, hangers
People go by things go by
A horse, drawing a buggy, breaking his hollow Iron music
into their sphere of possession of the trees, of birds' hung havens, hangars. People go by things go by. A horse, drawing a buggy, breaking his hollow
one
I'm using my head
I was as born by myself
It's like that when I'm dead
And I'm never gone stop
Till I'm sleep in a hearse
And I'm built like a horse
sing with pride
Let the white men die
Great spirit, thunder birds fly
We are wild and free
To fight and die by the open sky
Spirit horse ride for me
if I could ride
Of course, I'm great with horses, I smiled as I lied
We claim a million acres so you'll need to the ride the fence
Two weeks in
sea-shepherded peppered with extra sails
Rewrite history, liberty needs a better bell
Maybe hotter irons and carbon fibres that never fail
Smarter science mixed
keep, by killing cattle
I'm sitting on a high horse, named 30 30
Kicking up dust, leave yo whole town dirty
Face covered up with a blue bandana
Southern
And that's Nas dancing with dimes
But who's his manage
The imperial thug
Is cold deep grand wiz
We taking honeys' to the crib tonight
Guarantee we gon' get up
Honeys' with bodies
With Bravehearts guns in the party
Waves, braids, baldies
Trademarks to army
Is that Horse it must be
I heard he husky
Yeah, there
Honeys' with bodies
With Bravehearts guns in the party
Waves, braids, baldies
Trademarks to army
Is that Horse it must be
I heard he husky
Yeah, there
the barn doors are open, the crossbar is hanging in the wind.
So the devils sing tired, “Oh just look at what you're doing,”
Yeah, he's joined by a choir
From the cradle to the grave don’t need no rose petals
She ain’t even know she was dancing with the devil
Can’t be stressing bout no bitches no, I
In love with Berettas
Ayy, I'm tryna figure out how can I catch him
Take 'em out by his house, when he come out
We wet 'em couple Ps in the trunk
We
shotgun
With holy prophets
I invade upon, yeah I've been a don
Never sell out like Robert Johnson in Viacom
Lines of firearms held by millions of dons
I’ve come one step closer to being the hero
In proving my justice, piercing like an iron bullet
Close your eyes tightly and reach out to touch me
But then I think about missing out on more favor
I’ll take it later
Sharpen my iron The Pen of Ready Writer ready to write
Inspired by how Job lived
horse
Vincent Van Gore
Casualties are art, I made a canvas with your corpse
Bitch, I'm in a mansion with ten bodies in the dorm
3 a.m when it occurred
brain deformed, put in proper thoughts
Ride through with no shoes and soccer shorts
Show up on horses with tomahawks
And I slap my dick out like I'm
a bush with the Iron Lung, pay dirt to no one
Guilty by association, stank bitch
wanna give me some, nappy nasty -- I pass
Let them players flash,
like it got bit by a grizzly
And these drugs got me spinning like some capoeira
Still rock the slow beats with gold teeth
Ain't afraid to hold heat
with the devil
After I get myself some lunch
Maybe stop by the public pool
Just to get my hair wet
Now I'm going to try on a brand new pair of pants
Yo, hit you with the force of an iron horse
Tear your face off the planet, leavin' one-third damaged
With you back cracked the earth canvas, leavin'
"Where you been, wh-where you
Where you been"
By the time the 5 pull up, e'ry
(bitch) look up million records sold
(nigga) still sellin cook up
Pusha, you
lead a horse to water)
With the bump and the bop
(but you can't make him backstroke)
We're going to raise Atlantis to the top
(might make him snort
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