you doubt it You fuckin' playa hatin' cowards! We real over here We buildin' the No Limit mountain 2 million records and countin', so how the fuck is you soundin' Nothin' but legends
sorrow When they reached the ruins of Ayraklis Losing the will and conscience They fell down trapped into a deadly sleep But not far the horns of hope
in hustlin But some of us die for nothing Try to clock on the block, that's horn it with boats on it With Ghetto Legends to America's Most Wanted Lost
mass, 'cuz the prose is profound Do it for the strong, we do it for the meek Boom it in your boom it in your boom it in your Jeep Or your Honda or your Beamer or your Legend
prose is profound Do it for the strong, we do it for the meek Boom it in your, boom it in your, boom it in your Jeep Or your Honda or your Beemer or your Legend
punish nature entire The reptilian destroyer has been sent By the Gods to end this world He is a scaled biped A true killing machine With two horns upon
race It is as if I've always known For none but them the overthrown Deep in the shadows the prism is thine And death lying waiting within horned god
im still standin.. this for the rap gods.. (andre) i tried to earn wings but, i think i grew horns and maybe thats why mc's rock me like porn flowin
prophesized! In a dream I was bade ride the argent-eyed unicorn to the Ring of Stones... There a torrent of viscid slime assailed me, as pipes and horns
thus prophesized! In a dream I was bade ride the argent-eyed unicorn to the Ring of Stones... There a torrent of viscid slime assailed me, as pipes and horns
Circles of the deepest black throne A promise of the darkest blood found Unholy forces of evil Unholy forces of hell It's the legend, the demons Where
they came from the cold north carried on the wings of waves no one knows the cult bloody acts were only a legend... eternal hate and horned sodomy came
fact Louis was a legend in New Orleans And the Louisiana Dixieland scene He made a decision that the old time religon to be played out the horn and
those you'll harm Wrap your fingers `round your sword... ( And the ones we love will fall Like autumn leaves On these endless fields ) ... as the horn
a liquescent And nebulous lustre was born, Out of which a miraculous crescent Arose with a duplicate horn Astarte's bediamonded crescent Distinct with it's duplicate horn
feather from his pillow. Here's the everlasting rub: neither am I good or bad. I'd give up my halo for a horn and the horn for the hat I once had. I
't laugh away their pride But Custer didn't listen at Little Big Horn Custer died (Let's drink to old Jim Bridger) There's poems and there's legends