little Miss Scareall Forgive me preacher For I have sinned It's been 3 weeks Since my first confession I am the one hiding under your bed My teeth are sharp, my
chorus] Forgive me preacher for I have sinned. It's been three weeks since my first confession. I am the one... hiding under your bed. My teeth are sharp, my
Traducere: My Ruin. Predicator.
my johnny homicidal maniac [repeat chorus] Forgive me preacher for I have sinned. It's been three weeks since my first confession. I am the one... hiding under your bed. My
you spare me over til another year My mother came to my bed Placed a cold towel upon my head My head is warm my feet are cold Death is a-movin upon my
it's all irrelevant As I get older, gotta build my own intelligence Teacher, what are you doin'? Is it my rhymes that you're really tryin' to ruin? Back
This is violence in its purest form, What it is truly made for, Love and hatred flow through my throat, With this microphone in my hand. We are the
's all about No black magician telling me to get my soul out Don't believe in violence, I don't even believe in peace I've opened the door and my mind
black magician telling me to get my soul out Don't believe in violence, I don't even believe in peace I've opened the door and my mind has been released
preach It's a social disease It's the new moral cancer Don't think crying wolf Will give you the answer You ask for my love on the strength of a kiss
a five-string on her knee. Go away go away darling Corey Quit hanging around my bed Your liquor has ruined my body Pretty women gone to my head. Dig
my nappy head You can pull with my nappy dreads if you want to Shawty, I'ma put it on you and make you think That you the girl I be singing all my songs
the preacher tried to stop me Hold my heart it's beating for you anyway What if I can't forget you? I'll burn your name into my throat, I'll be the fire
cut my soul out Don't believe in violence I don't even believe in me I've opened the door And my mind has been released Well I don't want no preacher
be for you, ruin Thanksgiving Day? Teacher, what you say? Preacher, preacher, is it true That Jesus wants me to give my money to the likes of you? Ride
over the sky, walking dust, search your ground, a monster hound, why it hurts flying backwards sewn in space time, preacher. psycho rape to ruin the micro
Once we were so happy, you were my very own But then you bought that guitar and you ruined our happy home You told me that you're gonna pick, you're gonna
to belong Textbook of my crying, lying, dying history x2 Textbook of my crying A Textbook of my lying A Textbook of my dying A Textbook of my history
