Or would me not bein' honest hurt you more? Hypothetically, of course Are there some things better left unsaid? Or would you wanna know instead? Hypothetically, of course Are there some wars
the real worth Police questioning, rooftop cats invested in Tradin in they Lexus' GS's sendin messages Two and two makes four, Cristal's crazily pour Gun wars
it Everybody knows, heat hurts, she got to show me first Magician, but I can turn them to a Holy Ghost You can bring two, three, four of them, the wars
You're always letting us humans down The wars You bring, the babes You drown those lost at sea and never found And it's the same the whole world 'round the hurt
hard to imagine This world without guns and wars When we have our own private battles Our own bashing and slamming of doors What makes us want to hurt
You're always letting us humans down The wars You bring, the babes You drown Those lost at sea and never found And it's the same the whole world 'round The hurt
wars Niggas wanna shout, I'mma make noise Niggas run they mouth, I'mma break jaws Mase is comin' out, we gon' take yours Harlem World uptown baby, we make wars
lie Never feel, never try Empty people, empty steeple If all the opportunists and leaders of men Were forced to fight in the wars they began If we could starve the rich and hurt
point blank range show them fuckers we ain't soft I lost about a dozen of my cousins, homicide How the hell am I supposed to hide the fucking hurt The
of Your name I'm believing for the day Where the wars and violence cease all creation lives in peace Let the songs of heaven rise to You alone No weeping, no hurt
're the ones who made it Watch the beauty of all our lies passing right before my eyes I hear the hate in all your words, all the wars to make us hurt
float My eye's burnin' from the dope killin' my throat Lean my seat a taste, lumbar support on the belt Doin' 90 or more debatin' on the latest rhyme wars
Deep I dig to discover the truth Deep inside where secrets hide I hunt the hierarchy's highest heroes To hurt where vulnerability lies Roses burning on
we read. From the writer's pen to the dancer's feet, Somewhere in the middle we all meet. It's a tragic tale of industry From the wars we wage in
they knew, he's gun sick His glock clicks, like high-heeled shoes on parquay floors Mad sick, stand on hills and invade wars Filthy foul, shoveling dirt, he's out to hurt
You've got to win your wars, make sure You're not fighting for nothing, nothing Are you fighting for nothing, nothing? I've got blind words, I hope they hurt
harm Ain't my fault I like cracking bones, gives me a funny kind of thrill I can't help smiling at the pathetic moans, when I go in for the kill Tribal wars
't my fault I like cracking bones, Gives me a funny kind of thrill, And I can't help smiling at the pathetic moans, When I go in for the kill. Tribal wars