| With an amen, there’s a desire
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| To push through the pain and not burn as we walk through the fire, see
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| Though we know there’s something much greater than us,
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| Our heart’s desire, tells us the only thing important, is us
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| From life’s first cry to our final resting position
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| Is a constant jockeying for significance and attention
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| And as we chase the Grim Reaper with his diamond covered sickle
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| Or send our brothers to meet him with vanity’s pistol
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| It’s clear that we are craving life!
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| Yet misdirected, trapped in the snare of night
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| Who can save us from this dastardly device?
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| Give us purpose as we claw and we fight?
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| This can’t be it, I’m sure there’s more.
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| Show us a life, worth dying for…
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| Ladies and gentlemen, I’d like to welcome you, to the truth!
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| I want you to take this journey with me, (turn me up a little bit)
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| Stillborn, I was born unresponsive,
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| Meaning though I breathe I’m still dead to the beating of my conscience
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| Explains a lot, when you think about it
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| Cause I lived life for myself and I ain’t even have to think about it |
| As I yield to the wickedness inside me,
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| I attempt to play God like Bruce Almighty or Jim Caviezel
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| Sin deceive you and make you think there’s not a love greater than he do
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| It’s death, that Satan’s dealin' in this game I think I’m winning
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| You always lose in Las Vegas though you get cash to the ceiling
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| It’s my demise on dark nights concealing (get it)
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| I still pray I don’t die playing a villain like Heath
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| What you peep in my Ledger, it’s the sum of a deader
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| Hoping God don’t cash in on sins that he measured
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| That’s why thugs hit blocks with dope and Berettas
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| Thinking if they have more control, that things would be better
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| It’s life that you craving on this operating table called Earth,
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| We need saving
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| That’s why women give they body to these thieves
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| Thinking if they gain his love, it’s the cure to they disease
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| And gangs fight over territories they have never owned
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| Cause something burns inside saying this is not your home
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| This a sport where your money matters hardly
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| You can ball and never get a trophy, similar to Barkley (Charles) |
| I guess the point I’m really trying to make
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| We all on Death Row, Snoop, Pac, and Dre
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| And the Devil is sure to trust 'em, like we never should
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| Make us popular but in his heart he would kill us if he could
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| Tell the truth, some never listen though
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| Thinking that He alive like Pinocchio,
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| While being a creation that disrespect the maker
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| Life is only found in Geppetto, Creator, God! |