There is one intelligence that governs the world in which you live The experience that you call your life: your collection of perceptions. The grass is growing, the wind is blowing, your heart
doors Clippings from ancient newspapers lie scattered cross the floor Stained by the wine from a shattered glass Meaningless words, yellowed by time, faded photos exposing pain Celluloid leeches bleeding
path to reality For some, judgement [Master P] The devil took the straps off my nigga legs The Virgin Mary came when my homie bleed Too many fuckin'
keep my head up in this hateful world Always been mama's soldier, never daddy's little girl I did some fucked up shit, in the name of the game Before we even call
to stall Why can't we appreciate the gift of free fall Freedom is what scares us most of all We duck for cover in our shelters and caves Freedom is what
he has become Dum-diddy-diddy-diddy-dum Patronize the dealer and call that fun Our babies dying, 3-2-1 Instead of the ???? hear the coming of his son
your fool You know this lady is not waiting for words untrue I have to die 'Cause I'd rather crawl home bleeding than be Chained to you I love your freedom
fool You know this lady is not waiting for words untrue I have to die 'Cause I'd rather crawl home bleeding than be Chained to you I love your freedom
Listen to your heart Can you feel the gentle touch? A candle in the dark Listen to the wind blow Feel the stormy hold (?) If you can hear the message Answer the call
gone, And bleeding mind no longer cares, And only labeled heart and crown of thorns Still bring you back in your nightmares... [CHORUS:] Living in the hell they proudly call
And bleeding mind no longer cares, And only labeled heart and crown of thorns Still bring you back in your nightmares... [CHORUS:] Living in the hell they proudly call
giving in again, caution to the wind, complete freedom Look at these rappers, how I treat them, so why the fuck would I join them when I beat them? They call
this tune called "For Women" right Originally, it was by Nina Simone She said it was inspired by, you know Down south. In the south, they used to call
wash over me like only You can do? Will You be my freedom? Will You be my freedom? Will You be my freedom? Will You be my freedom? How beautiful, yes
doors Clippings from ancient newspapers Lie scattered cross the floor Stained by the wine from a shattered glass Meaningless words, yellowed by time Faded photos exposing pain Celluloid leeches bleeding
west) Third degree (Vast Air Kramer) Yo, I been nice but you rather put your hat in your sleeve And break arms like Segaul, don't wear your heart on
whole out of your cracked peach bowl As we go without rules, the freedom of independence we breed So we'll eat 'till we're full, keep control and bleed