Lyrics:
Know all your flaws, I'll be your diary
Should've told you that I shut down
And I go ghost okay that's my fault
Don't really like showing my feelings
can be touched
Young niggas in the wild life
Criminal mind of a juvenile
Livin' a child life (You can be touched)
Thinkin' he can make his pay
Too in
Six times for six guys know dey gone all ride
Seven in da wrap light
Eight goin all night
Nine times for da nine lives niggas die by
One time for da one
said that you boring
Don't like him anyway he was snoring
You can have his ass back while I'm out touring
Brooklyn, from the seven one eight it goes
Shit, I even let you rock out
Being Bill Belichick, tapin' from the sidelines, stealin' my shit
But dawg, you was like a mini me
Mocked me, envied me,
Mind' no more...
I stay in bed with MTV."
Then Ray took his glasses off
And I could look inside his head
Flashing like a thunderstorm
I saw a shining
Stets on my bed
Stets in my head
Stets on my bed
Team Fortress Comics #7 was finally released
Accompanied by a truly ridiculous Neil Cicierega video full
wont u get out an vote
honestly hate is yah true Virtue
And it's nuffin yah could do to make this living hell great
One thing to improve would b by
She had to much to tell
But not a thing to say.
They said "We hope you're doing well"
As she cut her teeth into the day.
Pounded on by confounded
times, he barely made the night
Just thinking one day, he’ll be gone to take a flight
Till Jesus came, and he took away his pain
Gave him a new mind
just resources for their short day
Working like dogs chasing after all the wrong pay
Then they fetch our bones and bury us the wrong way
Use a Tv
night when TEST STAND #1 and THE ROCKET SLED ITSELF... (We have ignition!)... got LUNCHED! I said LUNCHED! (Lunched!) By a FAMOUS MOUNTAIN-IN and his
the mind? out west
Somewhere in Africa
The Feds is after us, vest on my back
Whipping the Acuras, feel like a mac busting
A rug in Preston on percussion
the mind? out west
Somewhere in Africa
The Feds is after us, vest on my back
Whipping the Acuras, feel like a mac busting
A rug in Preston on percussion
Call me up to Your side
Draw me up to Your light
Let it blind me
Lord, refine me
Refine me out of my mind
Music by Peter Furler / Lyrics by Peter
the other been adopted while I was left neglected, the rich poor boy,
His family is respected but his mind is deflected as if being affected, a sailor, deep
and his dogs
It claimed our food our fuel it claimed our tent
I never heard one single sound just by chance I turned around
As Ninnis to his death in
around
She calls Hannah the next day
Still tryna figure out the best way to tell her that she's getting back together with an ex-flame
So she left her
pushin' Forgiatos, skirting dumb
Ninety-seven bullets out the clip, that shit gon' leave you done
Five rings on every finger, cowboys up in ninety-six
comes rushing in the door
He's an old man, he's out of breath and I'm thinking, oh my God, what's wrong, Grandpa, what's wrong
He holds his hand up
and above
Only thing that's on his mind is saving his mother
Heading to that postcode that they sent him
No mandem, no weapons
Just Kyla and the cash
He
children
Chapter number five
He was in survival mode
Livin' by day by day till he got his momma on the phone
He got foster parents
Who wish him the best
nail, board by board, made a ride out the storm
Forty days and nights of rain it withstood, made from the strongest gopher wood
Seven by seven, two by
the first time I touched her hand
The rain and the way that felt never let up all week
By Thursday I knew everything about her
And God, the last day I didn't
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