Lyrics:
white
State to state scrambling
Hand to handing out my bookbag every night, no
But I can admit that you were right
When you told me you gone make it if
reachin' they thought I was handing flyers out
I spend all my weekends drinking shit that can't expire now
I spend the rest blowin' louder than damaged dryer
The backend toon way
The count it up fast way
Never get a break day
Don't need no break day
They ain't handing second chances out
Rain, rain, put
know what to say
Cause I'm handing you all of the blame
At the end of the day
You'll say you love me anyway
And I know in a morning it'll all be OK
I've
at when I was in the kitchen
Whippin' up meals for kids on Thanksgiving?
Where was y'all at when I was with a teacher
Handing out backpacks & handing out
was in the kitchen
Whippin' up meals for kids on Thanksgiving
Or where was y'all at when I was with the teacher
Handing out backpacks & handing out
seem like it do so much sharper
now than any deed for this
handing and tilling, this light
stepping on stolen land. what I
owe you? nothing, all,
in the shadows
Run! (If you spot Fahey or Battle)
Run! Don't be dumb, cops are scum
They're handing out summonses by the tons
Run! If it meant he
the shit id buyy
The devil aint gon lie
Like shit man i shouldnt have signed up that paper
Im handing out fades i aint handing no tapers
I dip to his
system
The kind of lyrics that got a soft one playing victim
Oh, you know Doge, I told him to bring all the big drums
They're handing out these winnings,
rolling again
And when we go down rolling we rolling again
A second chance for the children we rolling again
And He still handing out these chances again
it’s
Hard to let go of your hand
When I don’t wanna lose you
Like handing over contraband
Of a high that I got used to
When I’m all alone
I get too
it’s
Hard to let go of your hand
When I don’t wanna lose you
Like handing over contraband
Of a high that I got used to
When I’m all alone
I get too
can see the hate inside my face
I'm handing you my wrist so go and taste it out my veins
Taste it out my veins
She told me that all your songs in
to the situation
And understand the discrimination
But fuck it, life's handing you lemons, make lemonade then
But if I can't batter the women, how the fuck am I
from the corner of their eye
But there ain't no doubt girl, down here
We ain't gonna take what they're handing out
When I'm out in the street, oh oh
the Memphis blues again
Now the senator came down here
Showing ev'ryone his gun
Handing out free tickets
To the wedding of his son
An' me, I nearly got
You'll never keep up that way
That's what I say
Bad news is better than what you been handing me
What's been going on with you my friend
Promise me,
the stitches still mending 'neath a heart-shaped tattoo
Renegade priests and treacherous young witches
Were handing out the flowers that I'd given to you
see to it in a hour that the mother is comatose
Farmers Boulevard, the place
Handing me a mic is like giving a chainsaw to Leather face
Smoking MC's
from the corner of their eye
But there ain't no doubt girl, down here
We ain't gonna take what they're handing out
When I'm out in the street, oh oh
Juan
Well, there ain't but a-one thing puzzlin' me
I got a girl and she can't see
I want only to make her mine
Well, she thinks I'm just handing her
(Dolly Parton)
Hello you said the day we met
Handing me a yellow rose
You asked me out
And to your surprise
And to mine I said I'd go
I thought
the stitches still mending 'neath a heart-shaped tattoo
Renegade priests and treacherous young witches
Were handing out the flowers that I'd given to you
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