toils, parents annoy you Truth of the matter is we're arrogant, spoiled America's soil has soiled us, sort of And pastors insist on declaring us royal
Knight on to Curtis Mayfield thing It's just nice-ness, the absence of confusion Love, peace and happiness, pure bliss Reminisce about the evenin', hit
you know she will hype this You just wishin' you'd done this There was never no fight if there was then I won this I'm caught up in this fun bliss These
your grace upon me And guide me to your royal chamber Let me see you in both darkness and light Let the sword of bliss pierce through this Kosha
Me, I need no royal introduction Let the rags speak for themselves, but listen all the same: For me to leave my cares and lose control was something