Repossed I'm under, I am nowhere A solitary way Huge success you never gave away What if I were high What if you were evil What if I were high What if
ain't what it all about (That ain't what it all about) Holy Mary, mercy me (Holy Mary, moly mary) Can't believe the things I see (Go on now, hee!) Mother
I look raa Ra ra So I woke up with my holy quran and found out I like cadillac So we shooting till the song is up Little boys are acting up Baby mothers
my glass up high, and I toast to the most high Since my B-day up to this day is close by Watchin over me, while Babylon scopin me From my mother's womb
dick yellow nigga He lived in the basement And he sell weed to the drug dealers Run around the hood n now you're mother fukin high [? ] Rather die than
cave with them The Holy Babe to greet. But, oh, what sight appears Within that lowly door! A manger, stall, and swaddling clothes, A Child and mother
1818-1895)) Once in royal David's city, Stood a lowly cattle shed, Where a mother laid her baby In a manger for His bed: Mary was that mother mild, Jesus
stories like Mother-the-Goose My true fam's (??) back since with Vince Mason We'll draw on three, leave that body for the tracin Ultimate high, like
and the bayonets they shine He's there to help them all that he can To make them feel wanted he's a good holy man Sky pilot.....sky pilot How high can
, sail on! Mother, will you keep me, hold me? Father, be there strong for me. Demons await where the mighty rivers run Children, sail on, sail on! Holy angels, rest on high
then pass us by but much too high To see the empty road at happy hour Gleam and resonate just like the gates Around the Holy Kingdom With words like, '
Calling passers-by But much too high To see the empty road at happy hour Gleam and resonate Just like the gates Around the holy kingdom With words
Then pass us by But much too high To see the empty road at happy hour Leave and resonate Just like the gates Around the holy kingdom With words like "
on fire... Liar liar... Hey naw Liar liar pants on fire ain't nobody getting no higher FUCK THAT where's my lighter Sick of all you lyin' typers We getting higher higher
Ghost of Mother Lingering death Ghost on Mother's Bed Black strands on the pillow Contour of her health Twisted face upon the head Ghost of perdition
Ah me say Holy Emanuel I, King Selassie I,Jah! Ras Tafari It is good to give thanks unto The Most High,King Selassie I,and sing praise
reason to climb so high A new creation becoming (Overpowering) This lonely place Will erase I will find a way to view the sky So very high I have found
