My name is vagabond My name is angel My name is century My name is hunter My name is sunburst My name is wildfire My name is scrutinize My name is basic
it ain't shit to do but look (Talk about, what?) In my "Home Sweet Home" I keep chrome next to my bones Alters my walk to limpin' (Home sweet home) Since
The good, the bad, the ugly, and the evil Deep in the manna where the poverty's visible There's not a lot sweet, so most look miserable Most cave in
the rolling hills of suicide everyone will run and hide screaming bloody murder with their heads of fire there just may be a chance for me my sweet insanity
To look down on the ruins was to sympathize and pity All the suffering and heartache, all the graves and broken bones For buried there a testament to the evil
to sympathize and pity All the suffering and heartache, all the graves and broken bones For buried there a testament to the evil of a queen A misery that
North On the ness I now stand Oh, death would be so sweet But my fate was rusty sealed My vengance comes wrapped in sleet My powers but grow and grow
Hoover)] Free my cousin Keith y'all, *?Hawawrka?* free free free 'em all (inside my jail cell) My boy Greedy Box (Put some money in my books) Put some
die alone in peace Till I waked up and I found myself at the post of the Mounted Police And there was my friend the murderer and there was my friend
call him John Doe A rude boy get murder cops were quicker on the draw Another youth get murder a victim of the law Rude boy get murder cops were quicker
worthwhile, When I win my first lucrative trial, And buy my mom that great big house out on the cape. Elle: (Spoken) Oh, that's so sweet! Emmet: (Sung
my neck End my life with death Murder on my breath Drink the blood from my chalice Come to hell & my palace Grab you heart It's in my hand Take you
To die a thousand times before dying Pray once and die a thousand more Broken puzzle Missing pieces Choking words Murdering this sweet innocence Saving from these evil
(Pretenders to the throne) Kneel before him, appalling wretched demon king. Praise be to us, his children, spawns of evil's reckoning. Doomed from inception
Nappy Roots. Can I start this one off? Ok [Verse One-B. Stille] Each day I listen what the streets say Like a DJ my negroes scratch ghetto recordings, for my
with 41 shots from a Glock 21 hand-gun My grandma said she had that hell of a grandson With 21 albums, if anyone asked They took my life but couldn't find my
Free my cousin Keith y'all, *?Hawawrka?* free free free 'em all (inside my jail cell) My boy Greedy Box (Put some money in my books) Put some money on