Letras:
From Our Hands The Razor

down for the count [Verse 1:] This sir, is the beef from the caterz K, C's, dem men, and dem hataz [?] Real sharp on my thing like a razor blade come

we come from and where do we go Sometimes I worry just too much, sometimes I just don't care and if you're with me on this point, put your hands high

rotting destiny Our worst nightmare Your throat will bleed your skin will burn Your throat will bleed your skin will burn I've watched your skin burn Your warm hands

razor cut lyrics that make your girl wanna f*** wit us I guess that's why you hate us so much.. But guess what...motherfu**ers keep it up.. Ya bitin' the hand

leaves rustle on the manor lawns As a light breeze whispers through The call of wolves. the owls lament Our screams shall soon soar skyward too Mistress from

beneath frayed gown When Her hands pointed to midnight In a white stained chamber bound I Swept Her from the abyss of another dementia Freeing Her soul from

the dark dilligently I'm not what you think I appear to be fucked up Mentally endangered I can't stay away from a razor I just want my face in a paper

George stealin' chickens from my farm. Damn, Another dead pigeon If your mafiosos then I'm bringin' on Haitian Sicilians Nobody's shootin', my body's made of hand

phone. So block your ears, close your eyes, remember that you're a golden soul fallen from the boring, heartless, Hollywood herd of lies that they call: Beautiful. With no shoulder, no hand