And we can't have none of that! Move along, Bear; there, there; that's that Though cast in plaster Our Ursala's heart beat faster Than monkey's ever
golden, peaceful wheat fields. She's staring at the sky All of her dreams are gone now. Her chidhood has been stolen By wicked men of the Northern hills. She's
And we can't have none of that! Move along, Bear; there, there; that?s that Though cast in plaster Our Ursala's heart beat faster Than monkey's ever
the back pain) There's much to be gained with the money and fame (It's like that) I feel the power when I hear it in the streets (It's like rap) Used
gets darker A sense of urgency Enters the atmosphere with my excursion In this Microcosm, a third version! Specifically a generation Of Mutated Warriors from the Nether; That?s
a man or Juwanna Mann I'm wonderin' why she "ret to go" like Wanda then When we met you was a V like Madonna, man Now you in the field runnin' plays
's got no shelter from the sun What's coming over me, to hell, what's coming over me? I'm stumbling through these fields of naked stones and sand Here's
ground; outstretched frail. Able bodies toiling in the fields below. A heartfelt slap in forced emotion, shaking bouts allow incentive. There?s an
Sweet sensi a come around Mi a tek a likkle draw and pass it around so Finally di herbs come around Di hygrade weh man a look fah mi stock it by di pound
I know you know the feeling, (man I ain't got shit Man these whites living good, I got's to have that shit) Even though we can't afford it, man we still
system up; now let the system bump till it's over At this point of time, there's not another radio station that's colder My procedures round cats get
(feat. Zodiac Killah) [Chorus: Hell Razah] I stalk in the land where the world's gonna end Life is a game that the blacks never win You can't look back
from within The R's for the Rage E's for the Energy B's for the 3-4 Bounce that we count Second E's for the Era of this young hottie youth L presents
back to Biblical times: 1823. An American man named Joe living on a farm in the holy land of Rochester, New York. You mean the Mormon Prophet Joseph Smith? That's right. That young man
's not a cloud to throw a shadow in my way My dried out body's got no shelter from the sun What's coming over me, to hell, what's coming over me? I'm