war when you fuckin' wit my crew Rogue for life! [chorus] 265 lbs. all nigga And I'm good wit these dawgs nigga Got steel plated balls nigga Representin' 57th street Me and my Dawgs bringin' the heat Born
[Intro] *Jesus loves me, yes I know* Our Father, who art in heaven hallowed be thy Name, thy kingdom come, thy will be done, *For the Bible tells me
your mama took a nigga on Maury Read your test results are you the father? I looked at his bitch ass told him don't bother I'm the father of this gangsta
Intro: You are the prince of darkness Arch enemy, father of evil Hell born, demonic, savage, fierce, viscious, wild Tameless, barbaric, uncontrollabe
You are the prince of darkness, arch enemy, father of evil Hell born, demonic, savage, fierce, vicious, wild Tameless, barbaric, ungovernable, uncontrollable
the courage The nerve to come around and bother me again To tell me I'm not born again, Heaven' is not reality If Jesus Christ is not the Son of God, Satan listen good
the spring To marry John Thomas, a miner Oh, the years passed again And the givin' was good With the lunch buckets filled every season What with three babies born
want somethin' I'm my own, man, own plan been that way Lost my father, shit got harder man and since that day I never ever really trust the world again
the spring To marry John Thomas, a miner Oh, the years passed again and the givin' was good With the lunch bucket filled every season What with three babies born
I'm stuck, she keep key-scratchin' my truck Actin' all young, doin' it in front of our son Peeped it before, but didn't want to think she's a whore Thinkin' it's good
and ran tae me I met her wi' good will CHORUS: Oh the broom, the bonnie, bonnie broom The broom o' the cowdenknowes Fain would I be in my own country Herding my father
heard HALF-BREED how I learned to hate the word HALF-BREED she's no good they warned Both sides were against me since the day I was born. We never
the principles office Getting handed the phone clammed up 'Cause his father was talking And he was pissed he wasn't listening to his son You testing me? You messin' up again
I won't be coming 'round His father, Tom, said, "You better sign on You'd better take up your gun and fight I got nothing against them Viet Cong What
my home where my rhyming was born It's a ryhtmic reality A remedy through riddles Where loves a hurricane and you meet me in the middle It's the good,
Well I was born in 1965 That was a hell of a good time to be alive Except that by the age of ten The music had turned crap again Now people say they
know it's the Truth And I tell you with power chump, so what ya gonna do? I'll make it known again that we're just spreading the good news And we'll
there's time to fall in step The secrets are still known here But the secrets never kept Wild places, somewhere We can see the Father's hand Wild places