pick up a war They're going to even the score Oh... I can't take any more I see black flags on factories, Soup ladles poised on the lips of the poor
man. Bet he wouldn't hold up to the back of my hand. The back of my hand. The back of my hand. I thought i knew you like the back of my hand girl. Late
[Porcelain Black - Chorus] Hey hey hey if you're ready to rage Raise your hands up, this what rock and roll looks like Yeah yeah yeah, wearing leather
[Chris Brown] All my ladies put ya hands up All my ladies put ya hands up If you got that bomb-bomb-ba-bomb-ba-bomb-bomb Know you got that bomb-bomb-ba
couldn't have resisted you. Impatient look sweating hands Good looking face wet pussies Temptations high my feet are cold Devil's eyes Black magic Lips
dried away River of fire runs through my veins, tears has dried upon the dull glance The speech has froze on the cold lips, let the heaven's vaults do
Head, shoulders, knees and toes Lips, my eyes, my mouth, my nose They all go against what Society calls beautiful I'm left handed in my right mind I'
cold corpsy lips For I know they'll never kiss mine Then once he kissed her lily white hand Twice he kissed her cheek Three times he kissed her cold
As shadow forms gather in circles And it is nighttime, so cold, so dark When spirits start their dance macabre Ghostly dancers whirling around Their lips
this bug-eyed girl Cold hand on my knee Frozen teeth chitter, chatter She's dressed up like a cemetary Like a cemetary Snowbound all winter Blue lips
war They're going to even the score Oh... I can't take any more I see black flags on factories Soup ladies poised on the lips of the poor I see children
up bars See, I'm not a retard Or gay like de Barge I'm large and in charge With a face so scarred A cold black heart That's been torn apart The Sith
, even your attitude Never gonna give you black-n-blues That's abuse, I'm not that dude Take it back to when I held yo' hand And my name became yo' back
touch of your cold lips Through the holes of the night We slide in the night In oceans of heaven The tears have no name Our eyes filled with black tears
cans. Is it any wonder there was such sickening celebration over the Task Force When so called radicals work hand in hand with the ruling elite? Yesterday
my verbal lateral grip Keeps my tongue glued to the A-Dat when I'm trackin' 'em shit Let my spit lubricate the chap on my lips And make you rappers
my verbal lateral grip Keeps my tongue glued to the A-Dat when I'm trackin' 'em swift Let my spit lubricate the chap on my lips And make you rappers
cold corrosion my destined fingers wander Sent by old... explosion [comes heralding cold to beat] Another hand to feed like fish within the net Like babies cold