artis: a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9

lirik lagu 4 28 1967 pt 1 – skipp coon

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( skipp coon)

see the taliban never knock down my buildings
or built felons schools or prisons from my children

so see i ain’t got a quarrel with them
and as a christian i do not squabble with skin

but the system that oppresses me is lead by them
and them spirits that i be beefin’ with embodied in
them

so see i shall sin less of them to alleviate
the oppression that’s spread by them

this is my wheat i wont be bakin’ bread for them
and god is my god so i shall not bow to them

or write my song if there is something to be said to
them
’cause in the end even satan knows that god gone win

my enemy’s enemy my friend
for the love of my kin never shall i sin

we got plenty males what we need is more men
and dough? ain’t got to let me out i’m ridin’

if he is not goin’ then i’m drivin’
middle finger to sarah john barry and biden

i’m ridin’ middle finger to sarah john barry and biden

(pyinfamous)

i’m intrigued by the leaves that fall around fall
makes me think of y’all i’m all around more of

so the tree is the cause because i am all i can be
when i listen to the roots records

dynamite every night with a jew rapport
we keep the cash in the fam’ reuse the port

ship out the mentality that they gave to slave ship
being the reality blank page and gauge

i write what i like you cant say amazing grace is
sufficient it isn’t you cant save them
out here who don’t want to be saved so i bought a
couple shovels let them dig they own grave

yo you can rant and rave while i plan a pave enhance
the hands the plan for the panther plate
we sick with the twist of the wrist that they call the
kill shot i call the will not lose

i ain’t tryin’ fill pacs shoes i have sweated in the
shop
i have built my two size twelves to walk through my
h-ll

i hail from the last that will be first the verse will
prevail
from the corner to the church i connected the verse

in the first degree work the beat till she turn tricks
on the path
craft to make math for the kids on the ave they have to
break fast

hungry for the images they mind wont remember when
blindness wont kill them
they been guided to rivers of styx doin’ stick ups and
runnin’ through chicks

cory booker ran for office i am runnin’ for picks in
the ground
so the laughs that i have the last when

we talk slow but think quick don’t try to pull a fast
one
we talk slow but think quick don’t try to pull a fast
one

(melaphyre)

i wade in the water i walk through the willows
transmit the sonically peircin’ the illows

push phonics like kilos held within the folds
drapes streets necessarily hardest the trials a joke

bang like wars for gaza chicano so he ain’t that
chucklebasa?
like this is for la razza

prep the platoons held captive in the caverns and
coc–ns
controlled by the gangs and the goons

go and tell the communes muse move bricks and balloons
now babies goin’ boy up in the womb

that flumes is smellins in his head like some venison
high up on that white horse like pegasus and kennison

you can send a village that they poison and pillage
the one who bears the cross gets nailed like acrylic

see the christ like a killer game or gorilla criminal
or conscious only time will reveal us… yah