in your mind, and guarantee they will change with time. Your outline is pixelated with poor resolution while downtime is simply wasted. You were born execution style. Head
your mind, and guarantee they will change with time. Your outline is pixelated with poor resolution while downtime is simply wasted. You were born execution style. Head
is rolling down two hundred years of track Two hundred years of glory never to turn back The train is called America your ticket is a dream That left
time I was sold on the other side 'Cause a wasted life is no such thing There's no such thing as a wasted life 'Cause life is death and death is life
bed with my crown on his head, Doin' somethin' sinful to your momma. And the terrible thoughts of what they're doin' up there Is more than a poor old
sign And you say to yourself just what am I doin' On this road I'm walkin', on this trail I'm turnin' On this curve I'm hanging On this pathway I'm strolling
a chill off the stove On the train they cannot feel Lost my head beneath the wheel Now she steals my body home The trees are fake, the air is dead
you ain't worthy, your gossip column is through And if some cats is after me, I'm right here mackin on you Had to pop the collar on my coat, rev up the
, all we do is watch em waddle back and forth lighting fires. Money-Money Detonator, wire-cutter, pliars. Two cities enter, one is broken up in tiny townsAnd
the door in your face I got you wide open, Run is runnin a race Takin what's mine and what's left is a waste Leavin them behind and all suckers on the
you sky's the limit is looking dumb Cause I'm 22 and I'm moonwalking on the sun Oh that's your girl She feeling on my water right next to a couple borders
the heart of the party And killing the laughter with frosty fire It's Samael time The hoedown is heavy on Bumble Bee Terrace The frisky piskies sitting on
for the kill (buckbuckbuckbuckbuckbuck) Black, emptyin' on sight, use your head You don't wanna get up in this thug life [Hook] [Outro] Bobobobo Firing Squad nigga Yeah, world famous, international Bell
my payment In foul with their lives No one can escape me On Black Death I ride When kissed by the sword of Vengeance Your head lays there by your side
corporate grimes And six billion shares in oblivion Your dividend is a life of hell With a rotten rope and a broken bell Ignorance brews a wicked potion Stupidity is