a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 #

letra de land of the lost - spm

he was the son of a dope man
what he saw is what he learned
he left school, now it’s finally his turn
to rob and steal, but he feels he needs to stop and chill
cuz deep in his heart he knows that god is real
momma still tries to open his eyes
cuz the way a man lives is the way a man dies.
his father’s doin 25 to life
cuz the love of money cuts like a knife
blinding lights
he doesn’t know which way to go
his best friend just got killed 2 days ago
he writes his dad the first letter that he ever wrote
a little note about how bad his heart was broke
before the mail could even reach his jail cell
the boy was murdered at a neighborhood hotel.
sellin wholesale just like his pops taught him
rock bottom.
a motherf-ckin cop shot him

we always will remember you
we always will have love for you
a taste of wine, and now you’re gone
you found the light in the land of the lost

they met when they was teenagers
around the 10th grade
she fell in love,
and now he wants to get paid
he convinced her to work at the b-tt naked
and everything she made dancin
he would take it
she got her fake i.d, and her club license
a second life, that she had to live in silence
at 17, she got the strength to finally leave him
that’s when she met the demon.
it was a cold murder
he made sure that he really hurt her
over dumb sh-t, but he had to take it further
circ-mstances that led to last dances
she hit the canvas, now she at st. frances
6 o clock services, feel the nervousness
of havin to look at dead perfectness
i’m smokin roaches burnin the sh-t out my fingers
rememberin the words of the church choir singers

we always will remember you
we always will have love for you
a taste of wine, and now you’re gone
you found the light in the land of the lost

another mexican g-ngb-nger, set trippa
wig splitta, a trigga happy ditch digga
itchy finger quick to blast upon a rival
vida loca, another word for suicidal
same color of skin, but different colored rags
browns puttin browns up in bodybags.
every 2 or 3 streets, it’s a different clique
they got no love for themselves, so they livin sick.
for centuries we’ve been fillin penitentiaries
it’s plain to see, we’re our worst enemies
the smartest, most talented of the raza
are all dead or doin time for a f-ckin tranza
geniuses all dyin meaningless
cuz we can’t find a way to break free from this
needless to say, the gangsta that i speak of,
g love, is layin in the grave that he dug.

we always will remember you
we always will have love for you
a taste of wine, and now you’re gone
you found the light in the land of the lost

- spm

letras aleatórias

MAIS ACESSADOS