Hallelujah! the sun is in my eyes, on my face. The air is hot with heaviness, and weighted and waiting for something to unfold. Hallelujah! the sun is
A disconcerting way to wake: to find everything in place the world goes on without my faith in anything to have to drag myself from bed, pull a sweater
Drove home to that achingly long song: The one that moves so slow, it makes you wonder if you're ever going to hear the next note the way that feet moved
Översättning: Gloria Record. Frälsning.
Översättning: Gloria Record. En lugn i trafiken.
seem I'm sitting on a fortune But sometimes money is just so important In my hood, I'm equivalent to Jordan Dribbling on the court, but shawty out here recording
be prepared Prepare for love finally grows Let us live to tell a story Here on earth and out in space Forward on the road to glory History records the
these haters ain't disrespecting/ Ain't ever no questions/ If we gotta rebel and do some checkin'/ At any second, things can change an death attack/ And for the record
Oratory of hope and glory, a whisper and a rhyme An effigy, a soldier out of time Citizen and patriot, you can't be far behind The funeral weighing heavy
the scene First he hit an old man Then he hit and run Pauline The record player spinning the best times I never had So why do my old records make me sad
but I was born a champion but I was born a champion [Chris Brown - Verse 2] This gon be the realest shit I ever wrote Off the record, no camera's, forget
a record I was a camera until I went blind And now I'm riding, all over this island Looking for something to open my eyes Well I still sing glory from
You should have seen him then, now look at him His hair is getting thin There's one last show before the glory ends There in the wings, waits his only friend, The record
pharoah, here's the medicine, see the arrow The Fellas, the Neighbors, and the Ghetto Dwellas From New York to Missouri My glory is handshakes and
that loves shrimps and lobster And for a hobby I'm hitting niggas up like a mobster I got a story for each little poor territory The ghetto glory in
to Akapoko, from the 4 With my 4-4 on my side, when I ride Ready to do another homicide, in a pine box And I'm gone, nigga old glory I'm H-Town to Cali
Yeah, it's going all the way down Aquemeni records, Killer Mike, Slimm Calhoun Just because your wearing a Braves' jersey Doesn't mean we on the same
