are one skin; you can't convince me to believe in sin. Language has us wired to explode, we know how to hold on and how to let go. When it feels like
the year 1982 a music was created. It was given the title: Gangsta Rap It had no positive messages, no redeeming value, hated and feared By the establishment, it
Tell us all a story about how it used to be Make it up and then write it down, just like history About Goldilocks and the three bears, nature in the cross
banana clips 'cause it's Guerilla warfare last year I was watching this from the couch and now I'm here thats to let you know what I'm about reaper black
your house now let me spin Python power straight from Monty Celluloid loves got a John Frusciante Spread your head and spread the blanket Shes too free and I'm the patient Black
I vanished with the dead Lenore, stroke the raven never more But the raven, never flitting Still is sitting silent sitting, above a painting silent painting
fingers all entwined through the air, I could feel it, it was the hair going through my fingers, (I feel it I feel it I feel it I feel it) The hairs were
bitches running out of time Got my shades on, I aint waiting in the line Whatever it is I'm on some better shit All black barreta shit Leather coat, leather
you like some do Now, look at what we've come to it's young and it's stupid How you blaming all of us for one chick that was rooking It ain't my fault
do do do do Do do do do do do Today I saw a kid Torture a cat Too much leisure Teenage Norman Rockwell Paints it black How did the chain get started
like I aint had a belt in two classes I aint got it I'm going after whoever who has it I'm coming after whoever who has it you blowing up, that's good
the planets will align, there will be no planets to align Just the carcass of the sun And little painted marbles spinning senseless Through an endless black sky It
team These niggas shoot first they they askin' check names It's less strain, it's all real, I bet fame, it's a chess game Wrong move and it's checkmate
You can C-walk to this, homey it's still love Nigga I've been bangin since Mary J. did "Real Love" (If you don't know) I painted the Rover black The West
ridin with Nate, nigga it's still Blood You can C-walk to this, homey it's still love Nigga I've been bangin' since Mary J. did "Real Love" (If you don't know) I painted the Rover black
out of luck, nigga This is Los, this is Los Angeles Gang capital of the nation, gang capital of the nation This is Los Angeles, this is Los Angeles
[Chorus] Been holdin' this pain inside for so long Though the rain never goes away They say I should leave these streets behind me But it's so hard to
[ Music:Alessandro Muscio - Words:Stefano Droetto/Alessandro Muscio ] Burning skies, Angels of hell are marching through the stars Showing me weak
