What child is this, who, laid to rest On Mary's lap, is sleeping? Whom angels greet with anthems sweet, While shepherds watch are keeping? This, this
bells All seem to say, "throw cares away." Christmas is here Bringing good cheer To young and old Meek and the bold Ding, dong, ding, dong That is their
Tercüme: Grace Noktası. Bu Nedir Çocuk var mı?.
things you can replace And others you cannot The time has come to weigh those things This space is gettin' hot You know this space is gettin' hot I
step out of place, they get slapped in they face All y'all niggaz is fake, tryin' to emulate my style What grown man? In this game, to me you're a child
?s holy I?m your star and I?m your wish Cause I am both the giver and the gift A child far away born in the night Too young to know what is meant for
to feel me Hit these curves and fight what you deal with Speak truth and love in spite what you live with Hate what you came the mic is boldfaced The mic is
this life with no resolution, the duality in men requires constitution. for the shame of hatred spent might endure your sorrow if your higher self is
confirm That we are righteous to enter the kingdom? JUSTIFICATION And what is the point at which this all takes place? And it is based on grace REGENERATION And what
't make sense, this makin' dollars shit, Don't take a scholar to see what's goin' on around you Either you widdit or you ain't is what it comes down
things you can replace and others you cannot The time has come to weigh those things this space is getting hot - you know this space is getting hot
of place, they get slapped in they face All y'all niggaz is fake, tryin to emulate my style what grown man? In this game, to me you're a child I trained
move on, move on with every stroke of the clock is more pressure who could fully understand the growth of a child more or less this innocence exposed
single tear sprints down his cheek, his knees become weak he thinks, "here I sit, a child embracing a child with child that's probably more scared of this
't make sense This makin dollars shit, don't take a scholar to see what's goin on around you, either you widdit or you ain't is what it comes down to
of E and J And drown myself in this alcoholic slow sorrow And I find myself not taking sips, but whole swallows And my outlook on life's meaning is so
pieces of my life Would it all be easier If I lay be down to die Dreams piled high On the back of this broken man Is this all? Born to fall? Or to rise
