rid the world from it's finer strains Through pills and acid that destroy our brains A utopia they seek to gain To save our world from the ones thought
Here I lie Awaiting to die No cigarettes No drinks after eight Here I lie Medication cut down To preserve my breath To postpone my death Understand This
came for help Against my fears What harm did I ever do to you I asked for your help You helped yourself What harm did I ever do to you Now I suffer from
burden of death is a heavy task About to lose my everything Cancellation of my future dreams So I have written my testament My desire to live it screams I received my death sentence From
The aeons, by they go They will never let you know Shining down on fields of doom Tribulation casts a blood-red moon Immortality in death How I long
May I wear you this night As we marvel at our death I would wane within your art As you would become me Like ashes circling the pyre With virtues of
eyes Yet the unrest would pine away In solitude where death holds sway So this is how credence declines All words come down and laughter pines A vagrant god released from
[Intro: Ice-T] Every year the same shit happens More fuckin' funerals, dead homies Niggas out here killin' each other I don't know why And when it happens
that they sold us out America the beautiful, there's a funeral on every day of the month Tryin' to get our knees broken, huh It's another chance under these
teeth when I'm smiling at these niggas From the car lot, to the rim shop we crawl & we creep Southside young b that's how I come on these streets nigga
Spit 'em up and swallow slow I reload, clipping' your ass crack, you constantly blast back Payback from flashback, some bitches know Bust 'til I see the chrome from the intro You was fucked from
, twisting to the cold dance Watching the room grow old, a funeral romance Somewhere, someone's screaming that the world's gone Smear me with your blood and let these
Pale and twitching, twisting to the cold dance Watching the room grow old a funeral romance Somewhere, someone's, screaming that the worlds gone Smear me with your blood and let these
project pat is there your nigga down to make some fizz From the uterus to the funerals I'ma keep my crown Bitch I ain't from England But my money still
'm here to tell ya' I'm makin peace with the past And I'm not ashamed of my scars, But I'm done... I'm done harbouring grudges and nursing old wounds
a funeral for her The preacher said she was with the Lord There were lots of pictures of her Taped to a poster board Are we high enough to clear these