lay waste Wipe out, kill them, kill them Their struggle to defend The attack will never end Surrounded by disgust Pounded into dust The captured will
That old dust storm killed my baby, But it can't kill me, Lord And it can't kill me. That old dust storm killed my family, But it can't kill me, Lord
Превод: Вооди Гутхрие. Прашина не може да Килл Ме.
Dreams sparkled with the dust of angels as blue-eyed girl puts all her trust in strangers misguided, misdirected in a strange world she took a leap
real life, you burnt your soul down the day you left your greed. Consume your time, I can't help but give a fuck. No words, no false promise, dust, dust
in shapelessness Like your breath washed out By the contempt I don't want to wait for it So kill me Through I don't want to die But kill me I hide my
So you want to be free To live your life the way you want to be Will you give if we cry Will we live or will we die, yeah Solitary brother, is there
he kept hearing voices He was in a violent mood He had to kill 13 Stopping earthquakes was his dream Voices told Herb 13 must be killed He did his
done is gonna last forever Babies being born in the world already drug addicted and afflicted Family values are contradicted, ashes to ashes and dust to dust
Eagle on me you'll think I'm an Eagles fan Tony Braxton sniper rifle make you never breathe again Fuck that nigga, kill that nigga, bring him back, kill
in Baby, what the fuck is wrong (Wrong) With them? What the fuck is wrong (Wrong) With them? Uh, mind over matter Money over all The world is on my shoulders Shall I dust
a bullet through my heart, why not? That's a start They could push their reps quicker, kill a well known nigga And if you say you're going to kill me
say the same shit now The Local Mobb Grill and let y'all niggas know I'm dead I'm serious, somebody can get killed Wait for the fire drill and when you
is goin' to hell This is my second day I got a ten year stay I learned my first lesson in the pen you don't play I seen a brother kill another 'cause
, I'm that nigga with a fresh pair of locs, no yokes but smokes Crakers and them dirty mackers friends aren't jackers Get yah for your drawers, young niggas out to kill
