somewhere out beyond the edges in the depths of spirit land its authentic, apocalyptic destroyer damaging challengers -- resurrection, disorder a monument of crisis
Momma, momma don't you waste those prayers on me. Momma, momma, won't you wash those tears away. I'm so red my credit line's fucked up, bankrupt on borrowed
long 'Til when? 'Til the early morn' It don't stop and uh it don't quit And uh drop six and uh we pop Cris Right now too tipsy to drive But I got my
beyond the edges in the depths of spirit land its the authentic, apocalyptic destroyer damaging challengers -- resurrection, disorder a monument of crisis
. Every year thousand of people die of hypothermia, Too hungry, too cold, too poor to stay alive. * At times of national crisis it's always the poor
de l'opposition La Terre en ebullition, mais pose-toi la question Pourquoi ces silences, dis-moi, pourquoi tout ca! Ce sont les memes drames, memes cris
droits Parle-moi de ce p????re Qui te bat tant de fois Parle-moi de tes peurs Parle-moi je te crois Parle-moi de ton coeur Qui se meurt au combat Blotti
mes esperances se heurtent a ce mur La peur de l'autre est bien souvent fatale A un point tel que l'Homme devient un animal Ces cris resonnent dans ma
the bone combing them deserts my figure eight knotted lifeline defined traffic the way my schoolin' end-less-ly defined every day one exquisite fitted crisis
she bathe and comb her hair We can light something nice and cologne the air I just wanna see you take it off Baby, you got what I need now Couple bottles of cris
[mase] Huddy combs bring it home, we don't stop Jimmy jones all alone, we don't stop Loon crime fam', we don't stop Meeno, nrb, we don't stop To my man
my wife, my crew meet her In other words, I need a chick off the meter The type that wild out when I eat her (c'mon) Repeat 1 [huddy combs] Hey, yo
[huddy combs] Yo, only got twelve bars so let me cut to the chase Fuckin' wit' stase, I caught a buck in the face I got the set me up, everybody's drinkin
Slash cardan slash take my stuff seriously What? [huddy combs] I'm getting bigger dough spotin minks and figaro's All my misses know huddy comb the
villains- generic you're feeling It is not- it is the plot for a pair that is chilling In the glorious heavens, standing for Christ in a crisis I know
A l'ecole de la survie, Moins tu pleures et moins tu ris, Moins tu frappes, plus tu cris. Si tu prends sur ta personne, Alors tu n'es plus personne
men fous de la mode, par definition elle se demodera A force de voir nos plus grands leaders assassines Je pleure pour leur memoire mais tous leurs combats