I let my fingers rest on her With greater pain and lesser worth Try to keep these saints at bay As I'm wandering this desolate earth So follow me around
face, you're a scandal Your body is so wrong, wrong Bless my lips with your Sunlandic kisses Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me While our hands explore each other
compitence before i get another bitch cause i be on some other shit higher than a mother ship louie in my 7 trae gucci in my other shit gucci pass the other
well For the white horse of heroin will ride you to Hell, to Hell Will ride you to Hell until you are dead Dead, brother, dead This is a revolution
'? Laying it down with grace and power Long about the midnight hour I heard the people all singing Like they'd never sung before All over the country
it back like Hammer's home The hurricane come and took my Louisiana home And all I got in return was a darn country song This whole country wrong What
shot, in this land of opportunity Look at what this country's got, there shouldn't be nobody homeless How can the president fix other problems when
other song and y'all don't leave it alone I save then baby, come on Murderous, somebody noticed when I strike through the killing fields, dead T-Rock
And within his young heart The seed of revolution sewn In cloth humbly worn While others are adorned And he grew into a man Not like any other Just like any other
us shit Got us stuck on stupid, straight S.O.S Can't get nothin, but they payin the rest of them fools All around the world in the other countries They
nights, dark days For every person without a voice that got something they need to say Yeah, it's true, I also do get praise from the other side of
hungry That's enough to send a man over the edge humpty And if it ain't me against the world Then I feel like I'm going against this whole country Nobody
neighbor with paper Chrome and wood on the Chevy baby Bust rubbers go deep under covers A freaky mother fucka' we should get to know each other [Chorus
go "Woof" He ain't dead, what pledge There's a stank up in the Bush Or a stank up in the White House Shootin' board bullshit, man, it's dead props Here
I like to give, don't reciprocate it Unless you could give me someone innovated Well let's cook it up, we don't refrigerate it But back to the country
city hood or you're just country bammer When, afraid our records would hit the top ten But they're illin with the shillings makin sum dead yen scorn Born
thing you know I'm walking in a crowded hall So many different faces that I throw up on the wall Some are yelling sick and the others stop and stare but
