All answers seem to come to easily, to you the word rhetorical is wrong. these questions blur the things we need to see and simplicity beneath a song
all answers seem to come to easily, to you the word rhetorical is wrong. these questions blur the things we need to see and simplicity beneath a song
all answers seem to come to easily, to you the word rhetorical is wrong. these questions blur the things we need to see and simplicity beneath a .song
I lost On a holy roller channel asking me what's the cost On a couch in a cold room Pouring salt in my wounds I've been mistake faking truth holding
talkin' to me girl Back it up to me pokin' Me nuh deal wih di ol' skylockin' (Yuh see me girl) One ting me nuh shoutin' Haffi gih gyal di leg keep di leg
girl i'm taking your heart you gon be my hostage holding you for ransom kidnapping your love you taking my heart your love just got me locked down holding
deef down beautiful lines from above and we're all a-glow raise her head and things get warm, hold on to its leg, before it flies away sun lit walks,
the roommates extermination plan. I ran to the kitchen in my towel, with tear stained cheeks I was soaking his house. The little mouse dragged the leg and trap
in Ninety-six strike back with more hot shit Illuminate my team'll glow like, radiation With no time for patient, or complication Let's get it done right, my click airtight Trapped
like the asthma Couldn't care less, you approachin' near death My hollow tips, rip into your vest politic, with the fearless The devil himself, a rebel in himself trapped
find a young bitty Baby doll, well, I never ever fall Hard, let the God Squad in the dancehall K.M.D., Brand Nubian Leaders of the New School always be chillin' Hold
sufferin' Oh oh, yeah, and just for frontin' You got me bustin' two nines With one hand tied together or somethin' Ain't no mistakin' we takin' your trap
smackin' niggas when there's nothin' to do They to big shoot 'em in the leg and even the odds 'Cause you ain't hard, less you round with captain C Rod Trap
Slick your hair And wear your buckle shoes And all that Jazz I hear that Father Dip Is gonna blow the blues And all that Jazz Hold on, hon We're gonna
saturday night I'll have a drink or two And hollow at the moon I'm country. I chew tobaccer and spit it on the ground Talk to the cows when no one ain't around I'm trapped
kind of blame Power drains, as the dark becomes light Trapped motionless, cause the chords are too tight What will ever become, of this book that I hold
Blood. - Each quarter was filled wit magick. - The fourth Leg of the Wheel, now accomplished... - Demon! Demon! Exode... - No Wall to hold anymore... -
