without fucking direction, this place we call home is overrated Desperate measures are what is needed to be made I'm holding out for something better Pull the plug, cut the chord
a wound Love a friend Strike a chord Strike a blow Tell the truth Trick the man Hold a meeting Take a beating Hold your tongue And watch your back Cut
and stash spots to keep and store it I used the banner of a slant with a zort Change your strategic plan, my man's getting bored Your vocal chord is
artillery and stash spots to keep and store it I used the banner of a slant with a zort Change your strategic plan, my man's getting bored Your vocal chord
Baby come on, come on down And love please don't make a sound Let nature strike a chord 'Cos nature is the Lord that I depend When you learn to cut it
Oh man That's my first child, my first born man I did this, I created this Ain't no time for being a savage, I gotta push a carriage But some rapped
too far He told me, "Son, you better cut your hair Better change those clothes you wear" - oh no But the only thing that I'm gonna need, is these three chords
it be Canibus? Answer me! My shelter is not far, you can borrow what you need The bunker doors sequestered beneath the tall tumble trees Gold chords from the organ cut
and stash spots to keep and store it I used the banner of a slant with a zort Change your strategic plan, my man's getting bored Your vocal chord is fraudulent
