Bury all your secrets in my skin Come away with innocence and leave me with my sins The air around me still feels like a cage And love is just a camouflage
He's coming back He's coming back for me and you He's coming back for me and you He's coming back for me and you It's the low down The show down Brother
When the beat starts pumping That's it --- Yeah The hitman's on the mic getting lyrically sick My boys with the tools to groove To make you want to move
I'm just a loc'd out brother Com'n straight from S.D. Just another islander, beaner, wop, minority Taught to love one antogher, all races All tipes of
God?s invisible qualities Eternal power and dignity Ruling over everything Forever and ever eternity God?s invisible qualities Eternal power and dignity
Wherefore God had highly exalted Him and given Him a name Which is above every name and at the feet of Jesus Every knee shall bow Of things of heaven
Souls black as But it's nothing for the children of God to fight We wrestle not with flesh and blood But with the principalities of darkness So put on
Snuff the punk I'm gettin' tired of you chump Bass in your face You'll get a taste fo the P.O.D. funk When I say punk or chump I don't mean you Talkin
Brothers & Sisters We're gonna draw the line To forget about the problems abroad But in the end we all have problems of our own Gangs, crack, racism and
Living on the streets of nowhere Nobody understands and nobody cares Nobody Listens, so who can I tell my life is just a living hell I'm going back and
Welcome to the minds of the infamous ones Children of God, Jesus' Son Gonna hit you hard it's the hitman for Christ Gonna steal your soul, yo, I just
I'm awfully tired of the same old business Kiss the babies, make 'em cry I'm only lookin' for one good woman Cross my heart and hope to die Stick a needle
It starts with vanity, arrogance and greed Panic is my obsession No one can escape, the thrill is much too great Despair is my creation Everything obscene
as your face hits the floor you feel sorry for [that action] It's too late 'cause i ain't got no motherfucking fraction of remorse left and you best BELIEVE
Un olor a tabaco y Chanel Me recuerda el olor de su piel Una mezcla de miel y cafe Me recuerda el sabor de sus besos El color del final de la noche Me
Instrumental
a pencil drawn line of fire smoking birds in a downward spiral trails of charcoal trails of gray half burnt feathers the eagle crash-landing now. as scary
Loucura, insensatez, estado inevitavel Embalagem de iorgute inviolavel Fome, miseria, incompreensao O Brasil e "treta" campeao Quando eu repeti a quinta