hip-hop bred... Common: From the spiritual world my former life has developed First person I lost close to me was stella Some of my mellows Lost their
passage with a map tattooed on the back of the classless Now tip toe across a lost cause Because a lost cause found Don't mean you found a cause That means you found a lost
her mind, her mind Roll a four, roll a nine Find yourself washed up in paradise All the fours to all the nines I lost my phone in paradise, pay as you
, rich and mad, proud and sad, free the spirit of its chain. United allies swear blood and pain one for all and all for one again They're out to find the lost
Far across the water, far across the sea, magician among the spirits, the next delivery And the scene is set up, the boy who lost his mind, a sudden smell
tall an' the grass is green Where the fish is fat in an untouched stream, an' the teemin' woods is a hunter's dream Davy, Davy Crockett, lookin' fer Paradise! Now he's lost
he's hip-hop bred... Common: From the spiritual world my former life has developed First person I lost close to me was stella Some of my mellows Lost
her repose In a carnival of souls sold and similarly lost Too many decades misfit and mislaid In innocence, a tender legend of prey Parades her second
'm the master brain Join my morbid parade - A horrid masquerade My dark blood is screaming from the past, the spirits of a lost generation The howling
is the lunatics legacy Privileged to bolt the nails of heresy Born lifeless into a world of coma As the chronic sufferer trapped in paradise lost Missing
; This beautiful haze overruns me So I erase myself from you; the cure for my sanity... And here I am, unwilling to forgive myself So lost in this remedy, your spirit
water's edge is where she waits Lost souls still wandering Meant to die But she's stuck not crossing over The other side is where he waits His spirit
I give it one more try I said things that I meant to say The bandstand chairs and the Dewey Day parade I go out to the golden age The spirit is right and the spirit
so devine Saves us all from falling down Voices from an ancient time A prayer for the dying A call for rebellion in the night The lost souls are crying
up at the table, still put dope in the bag And still got dope, under the mattress It was hustle before rappin', nuttin' before that and 12 years old, a lost
of destiny and the name of God And you can see them there, On Sunday morning They call it paradise I don't know why You call someplace paradise
Soul Reveal pathetic Tragedy As sleep I dream of Death Seething with Rage Exquisite Rage Amplify the Vision Does it Matter Does it Matter Paradise Lost
again (in a sorry sea of pale sound uplifting here, dark waters flow free through archways of silent dreams) Brought back from centuries, creations seen the colossal rains mortal spirits
