They're swimming into shore but only in their heads The 3 last horses dying in a sea Shouting of their cries for no one They're born to win, they're
the millennium. chorus: all round and round! from the first to the last, it is in the? passionate clear shit! all my nigger want my.. the hip pop is dying
got that far For he was last seen in that '59 DeSoto When Sally was born in the black hills of Dakota She was washed in the blood of the dying Sioux
her Daddy's house But all her pretty dreams are torn, She stares off alone into the night With the eyes of one who hates for just being born For
Outlaw Pete... He was born a little baby on the Appalachian Trail At six months old he'd done three months in jail He robbed a bank in his diapers and
One soft infested summer Me and Terry became friends Trying in vain to breathe The fire we born in Catching rides to the outskirts Tying faith between
don't have to think I take her to the floor Looking for a moment when the world seems right And I tear into the guts Of something in the night You're born
are dying My man got AIDS, he was hit hard To get laid, he paid a crack head for a five dollar quick job In the ghettos this stuff you have to find
bump We make it pump se pump We make it bump Save your corny missions for the tracks you lying on We got ammunition for the streets we dying on Stones
in your area From the street corner, right in your residence Fresh apples and peaches for the president Crime Fresh peaches and apples for the president Crime Fresh chocolates and apples for
devil Everybody's dishonest, different which means that we're dying by livin' Oblivious to the time that we're given So you don't prepare for the death, you live for
is sucker emcees better run The debate is now, who's the greatest emcee? We are not doing this for fun - this is a bloodsport T.I.P., Killer Mike, or Bun? Emcees are dying
position to rule Look at me now, your only child breathing through you For you, by you, the science of FUBU, ill creation I?m still laying for that
something in the air, in the air Some kind of answer to my prayers, to my prayers Some kind of answer to my prayers Been dying since the day I was born
Ring the alarm, another sound is dying, whoa, aye Ring the alarm, another sound is dying, whoa, aye Ring the alarm, another sound is dying, whoa, aye
Mr. DJ play that beat Won't you play if for me? In the mix mister hop Forward hop back, hop, hop, hop The second somebody dies somebody else is born
It'll snatch you up and run For a second you appreciate the sun For a half a second you appreciate the stars For a half a second you reflect on who you
love; for it is in giving that we receive, it is in pardoning that we are pardoned, and it is in dying that we are born to Eternal Life. Amen.