slowly Send a message to the world (A message to the world) Send a message to the world (A message to the world) Send a message to the world Another world
I look Used to be a straight a student, now he's a crook Robbin people just to smoke or shoot up Used to have a crew cut, now he's a pooh-put Dropped
, John - peace. Good morning meine damen und herren, this is the peace call. John: what we're really doing is sending out a message to the world,
some Time in Michigan A 20 year vacation After all he had a dime A dime is worth a Lot more in Detroit A dime in California Just a 20 dollar fine Jerry
, Pussy Control, oh Our story begins in a schoolyard A little girl skipping rope with her friends A tisket, a tasket, no lunch in her basket Just school
you can see the pain in my eyes, fuck a disguise, I wear it on my shoulder like a bass, Causin' casualties like M*A*S*H, Been a soldier in the truest
"In the year 1982 a music was created. It was given the title: Gangsta Rap It had no positive messages, no redeeming value, hated and feared By the establishment
to kill 'Cos what I call home, you call hell My ghetto quarters ain't no better than a jail cell But there's a message in this story that I'm tryna tell
Wishin' I live my life a legend, immortalized in pictures Why shed tears? Save your sympathy My childhood years was spend burying my peers In the cemetery, here's a message
spent some time in michigan A twenty year vacation, after all he had a dime A dime is worth a lot more in detroit A dime in california, a twenty dollar
the homeless a home I'm not runnin', for Congress or the President I'm just here, to tell the world, how my story went You see first it was a dream,
a house, and you should keep in mind Each house equals, a period of time The time, two thousand years and that's a fact It's called an age or a house
. Oh, John - peace. Good morning meine damen und herren, this is the peace call. John: what we're really doing is sending out a message to the world,
Paroles de Tim RICE - Musique de Michel BERGER l've a message for the world And my ever-loyal fans For I don't know what Stories you've read I'm killing
, pussy control, oh Our story begins in a schoolyard A little girl skipping rope with her friends A tisket, a tasket, no lunch in her basket Just school
Y'alls the Motha fucka's that's guilty Lockin' me in solitary eight years of filthy Kill the messenger, you can't kill the message Yo I'm bringin' food
was in a rush to grow up, look Mom no cuts Just a stomach in disgust, and the fear that I might go nuts this year If I don't swell up I'll see you one