die by a war then I'm feelin' I lost all what I love and hate then I know the seasons of black run to my head when I'm walkin' into the mirror of black
airbrush atrocity with philosophy And people ask me am I gon' preach one of these days And I just tell 'em, "Possibly", if you let me I'll end up being
what im writin to spit but on the flip son, everything im writing is hits like the stick of green canabis that we twist then we stick to our lips end
His Twelve Disciples make thirteen A righteous number of righteous men Even Judas the Betrayer came true in the end The Devil say the end is the beginning
A shell for the earth, all seasons reverse A life inside out in a jet black hearse The feel of pain, the taste of dirt A darkened sky, the loss of worth
cure and you're the germ Embalm you with the fluid, make you do it like sherm Keep you up until the end of the term Niggas green with envy like they
, Yeh Wot When I bop through these ends, Follow me on a trek through the East End, Where we wear our hoodies in all seasons, Licking shots, Dodging
love and nature Rhymes to break ya, take ya Up to the maker Away from the pain We feelin safer The liberate to rectify the soul Written in red, green, black
case Getting chased raided but mostly getting shit painted [chorus and scratch x2] [Promoe] Yo, it was me and Suer, right. On a tuesday night Had green, brown, black
nature Rhymes to break ya, take ya Up to the maker Away from the pain We feelin safer The liberate to rectify the soul Written in red, green, black Trim
and his twelve disciples make thirteen A righteous number of righteous men Even Judas the Betrayer came true in the end The Devil say the end is the
A shell for the earth, all seasons reverse. A life inside out in a jet-black hearse. The feel of pain and the taste of dirt. A dardened sky and the loss
all that was green has withered to nothing a blackened sky suffocates me where is my rainbow? where are my flowers? the roses have all turned black my
m about to show you what this black power is Red, black, and green on the wrist how I live In the cold world where we bust off the black llamas Every
're the germ Embalm you with the fluid, make you do it like sherm Keep you up until the end of the term [Bootie Brown & Frank Fiction] Niggas green with
know airbrush atrocity with philosophy And people ask me am I gon' preach one of these days and I just tell 'em "possibly" If you let me, I'll end up
