Come clean and off with your head The streams of bright rosy red Your heart will do the rest And you'll always fade You'll always fade Someday you'll
Don't act so innocent I've seen you pound your fist into the earth And I've read your book It seems that you could use another fool Well I'm cruel And
put the treasure deep inside us Inside us, inside us They thought the desert would divide us Divide us, divide us With silence They filled our hearts and
To my mouth Frozen shut Mother's son Paper cut Belarus Belarus Belarus Belarus Pressing wine Brighter sun Black and white Fading on Belarus Belarus
Where would you go if the gun fell in your hands? Home to the kids or to sympathetic friends? Oh sandinista, oh sandinista Oh sandinista, take my side
All soldiers They're all gonna die And all the little babies They're all gonna die All the poets And all the liars And all you pretty people You're all
All I can do is fight Even if I know you're right All I can do is fight Pretty fingers, holding fast Maybe it's your violent past Maybe it's your violent
So she waits on the edges of a mattress what it takes to get a bad mess out of a bad dress when she sings it's like a blue dove on a whipping post when
I've spent a lot of time Good people Trying to make it rhyme Good people It gave my mind a little place to hide If you don't like my lines Good
your records and they sound a lot like mine so you be my mary ann and i'll be your yoko and let's bury the hatchet like the beatles the beatles and the
We took our pills It changed the world We had our fill But when we realized That we were dragonflies We knew we had to try To find a way to get more
Our bodies break And the blood just spills and spills But here we sit debating that It's just a shame My hand just kills and kills There's gotta be
mine By this time tomorrow I'll be just one day closer One sunset further behind In the morning I'll make up my mind Always a whisper Worthless and tender
You know the deal, Esoteric.. 7L Oh, and another thing... kill all that.. the la la about the guns and shit Y'all ain't got no motherfuckin' guns...
ass out like a centerfold, watch us wreck it and go I'm second to no one, on Med's drums and these guns, equal mo' runs Sold coke, sold smoke, and sold
up, fuck the game I'm all about guns, mad loot, and fat chains Act like you want, don't front or feel the fury I catch a homicide charge and see the jury
[Killa Bamz] Red dog Ebonese, half Gotti and Lebonese You see me posted, lifted like my tape to text Poverty projects son, and I ain't scared to talk
low-top Air Force Ones And U hollerin bout money ain't got no funds And U rappin on beats using pots for ya drums And you'll never see me with ya bitch
