The sun came up over japan in the land of the rising sun, nothing was left but a hole in the ground in the land of the rising sun. corpses lay scattered
and um I'd be lying if I said I knew your intentions See my sexy sabotage thinks defensive action to save the race You land in hand on board to mention
Written by Chris Cagle, M. Jason Greene, Brian Wayne Hot sun goin' down, heatin' up this little town The cows are fed and the plowin's all been done
the sun goes down? And six petals rise up from the ground Lotus Pod fully grown about to take you home To the land of smog where you're free to roam
you Hold on to a piece of dry land Got to hold on to a piece of dry land Got to hold on to a piece of dry land On the banks of the deep end Where I lost
the bushels of corn and the barley meal Broken ground, open and beckoning to the spring; black dirt live again The plowman is broad as the back of the land
s core What hurts more, the fact that we still dirt poor In hard times force crimes out of honest man And most fiend to see the so-called promised land Sun
I received I'm from the dirt I planted my seed on unfertile land Myrtle Park Marcy, Flushing and Nostrand and Still I grew some how I knew the sun will
do dirt, tell lies, then skate What up son? What you bullshittin' bout now huh? Where we from? Don't matter cause we gettin' it done Land Rover, double sun
future We are men of nature We are made from the earth At the end of my eighty, I'll return to the dirt Just sand, just rock, dry land, fast and silent
and call that fun Our babies dying, 3-2-1 Instead of the ???? hear the coming of his son And a free man no land right Masquarading the ladies, the feminists
a slice when we done, and all minds are one, yo [Chorus] [Verse Three: Hell Razah] I be the Rabbi watched by snake eyes as the playa hate rise New
every blessing I received I'm from the dirt I planted my seed on unfertile land Myrtle Park Marcy, Flushing and Nostrand and Still I grew some how I knew the sun
done sent to piece out for hire I ain't goin down over no money exchange You late for say I, who reigns as King of the Range? In this land of wildness
I?m waiting for the sun to rise So I can find my way back to Texas But oh it?s still dark outside Cuz I can taste the fire on my lips And so I say to
deserve every blessing I received I'm from the dirt, I planted my seed on unfertile land Myrtle Park, Marcy, Flushing and Nostrand And still I grew some how I knew the sun
bushels of corn and the barley meal Broken ground, open and beckoning to the spring Black dirt live again The plowman is broad as the back of the land
