even there Hearin the voices inside my head saying you'll get no where he you care I be the Lil' Rob going insane when he calls me name I'm hearing voices
Every time you raise your voice, I see the greener grass Every time you run for cover, I see this pasture Every time we're in a funk, I picture a different
a killer that flows angelic Story telling and battle rapping who can't sell it? Should I speed it up? Nah imma keep it strange My inner voices told my outer voice
What you see girl, that Benz is irrelevant Materialistic, ugly man is plastic No class, in a suit, cost rather cheap Got the nerve to blow the horn
Street Parade 3:12 Trk 5 (Earl King Johnson) Earl King Arr. horns - Allen Toussaint (& tambourine) Engnr- Cosimo Matassa, Jazz City
give Musik a chance and do the universal dance. The sound of Musik - Hear the James Brown song hear the church choir sing It's the people's voice
es endet doch daheim. Meine Haende sind so kalt, denn die Zeit die ging ins Land Meine Seele ist so rein. Die Rose kennt den Duft Meine Stimme braucht
too soon There is no sense in trying. Pointed threats, they bluff with scorn Suicide remarks are torn From the fool's gold mouthpiece The hollow horn
know too soon There is no sense in trying Pointed threats, they bluff with scorn Suicide remarks are torn From the fools gold mouthpiece The hollow horn
a cult to me Her limbs were fierce in symmetry It throws me into song The throng have done us wrong And away she goes, her toes leave gold Her horn
We've been waiting so long We've been waiting for the sun to rise and shine Shining still to give us the will Can you hear me, the sound of my voice?
in this hour I face the unknown Witness the end I'm bleeding I'm fading Here in my final hour When long-lost memories return And a voice keeps calling
were born in the void In the middle of none There was nobody else There was nothing at all Well sons and daughters Joy's in the air The horned one dies
With your infernal grasp A scorn from the Absu Kutulu snaps his jaws Cauldron burns and receives Crushing the voice of the tyrants Raise the horns
with your infernal grasp A scorn from the Absu Kutulu snaps his jaws Cauldron burns and receives Crushing the voice of the tyrants Raise the horns in
my face is a leaden mask of death Drink my coffee black I sing with a voice full of scorn Behind my bony mask of face They call me the one with horns
full of headaches I fell in with snakes, in the poisoned ranks of strangers Please send me more yellow birds for the dim interior Will my pony recognize my voice
eye (look at your American dollar bills for an example), to pop-up as a horn sounds and the number 7 is shown as the voice says "Seven!" The ball leaves