Anger all around the world. Spreading these vibes that is making us whole again. And I want to spit these lines right in your face. Wreck this fucking place, make the people know that we're back.
I'm back, the God remains still at the end. They sabotage the game, still I'm a win. Rakim Allah's the name, and with a pen. No one can dodge the rain, kill 'em again.
Chorus 2x:. Do You Ever Think. What Life Would Be. Where You Will Go. After you Die?. . Verse 1:. Do you ever sit back and get a little too high,. start thinking what happens to you when you die?.
This isn't a revolution I'm sad to say.. It's time for me to meet my friends today.. Because I've lost so many hours talking on the phone.. I don't know why it always ends like this, now I'm on my own..
We are the animals who have lost our hair. Retained some of our teeth and gained a choice. We'll chase food, money and sex until satisfied. And when its time to rest ask, "What's next?".
There is a story that I want to tell. A little story from the inside of Hell. There wasn't anything that she could do. She was trapped to the shit like glue.
I suggested at a truce, you spat out some excuse. You're violent, violent. They don't like you hanging round, you're bleeding on their ruby ground. You're violent, violent.
You came crashing into my life. You pretend to work on a holy strife. Only for whites and your disciples. A bunch of fools breaking all the rules. . You are filled with hate and it must come out.
This is a true story. . I just woke up, everything was fucked. From the night before, I was beyond repair. I had just woke up, everything was wrong. All the cats were dead and the phones were gone.
Words and phrases are lining up in my head. I'm catching my breath before I lay another verse on the table. I can't sleep in this bed. Try to embrace them all.
Baby, don't go. To the haunted hotel. Got a really bad feeling. In my lungs and my bones. . Science can't save you. And your parents are away. On holiday in Mexico.
Shoot to kill, I dropped a pill. Then I threw a bottle of drink down my throat. I went at first looking for assistance. T bone burst in with both guns blazing.
Already building on burial ground. Already ignoring the bullet sound. Don't waste your life on powder illusions. It seem to be the easy solution. . Life's hard, never an easy way.
I'll meet you in West Germany. October 1983. I know that freedom was a lie. And your husband was a spy. . You say that words are impotent. But they can help us pay the rent.
When I was younger I felt so pure. I didn't know corruption waited for me. I tried to duck, I tried to freeze. Tried to bury my head in the sand. . But the sand it turned to mud.
I love the stars, the dark, the moon, the satellites. This is when I write, so how could I fear the night?. Instead it's when a glimpse of light appears.
I'm walking unknown territory, where the sun's not shining. There's nothing golden about Golden Lane. The smoke is heavy in my lungs and the adverts are working.
You climb the fence to follow trends.. You collect the scars just to go far.. And I despise what you sacrifice to be number one.. But what have you done ?.
You are not an open book. I can't do nothing 'bout that. But I'm worried, I'm overdrawn. What am I doing up at the witching hour?. . Oh-o-oh-o. Oh-o-oh-o.
If you use your grindstone right polish your own mind. You have to go from strength to strength of what it's all about.. I'm a castaway not under guidance it will never influence my sense.