Grand finale shit, kamikaze kid, open up ya eye lids to see what I did. I went to jail for stealing as a lil nigga. Then went to hanging in the after school, programs. Grinding hard off of 4 grams. Raise in the hood on up off that no ma'am. I'm from the south, where its big engines, and mo bam, off in the trunk, open up and dump then let the door slam. Smoking on some reefer that be stanker than some toe jam. Like Krit said, all I know is lions, no lambs. I'm dodging all these obstacles and I did it all with no rams, and no squares. That's why my circle staying so round.
In the cul-de-sac, and Sahara be the court, no Van Dam, but blood be the sport. And I ain't got no choice but to ride my own course, so motherf*ck ya opinion, bitch I got my own voice, a nigga had a dream of riding round in a rolls Royce, but Shit I done made the wrong choice.
Hook:
Nobody knows the load my soul tote. Feeling hopeless in open water I'm hoping my soul float. Say I'm hoping for better days but I'm hoping for more hope. Life is a dirty bitch, I'm hoping for more soap. The holy water.
Verse 2:
Cleaning my sins for baptism. With 2-bit cartridges and I'm looking through Activision. After prison its probation. With no legislation. 35 years for doing time, with no hesitation. Patiently waiting, for my time, while watching this old timex. Cooking up ghetto dope, so I'm watching this old pyrex. And even though that I'm next, I'm the last man standing. I'm trying to bust the world wide open, Grand Canyon. Can't imagine going through life with no companionship. The first sign I see a nigga hating I abandoned ship. No wordplay I'm just sticking to the manuscript. Full speed ahead even when I win the championship. My achievements, can finalize some agreements. But disagreeing with my shit will turn to resent. It's like this... I was high I didn't write this. I hit the blunt my fingers started moving, and words just appeared on the paper. And for every 2 fans, it's about 5 haters. I ain't went nowhere I was on a hiatus. So how the hell we get imported if we ain't never migrated.
Damion Jones - Holy Water [Original] Lyrics
Damion Jones - Holy Water [Original] Lyrics
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Grand finale shit, kamikaze kid, open up ya eye lids to see what I did. I went to jail for stealing as a lil nigga. Then went to hanging in the after school, programs. Grinding hard off of 4 grams. Raise in the hood on up off that no ma'am. I'm from the south, where its big engines, and mo bam, off in the trunk, open up and dump then let the door slam. Smoking on some reefer that be stanker than some toe jam. Like Krit said, all I know is lions, no lambs. I'm dodging all these obstacles and I did it all with no rams, and no squares. That's why my circle staying so round.
In the cul-de-sac, and Sahara be the court, no Van Dam, but blood be the sport. And I ain't got no choice but to ride my own course, so motherf*ck ya opinion, bitch I got my own voice, a nigga had a dream of riding round in a rolls Royce, but Shit I done made the wrong choice.
Hook:
Nobody knows the load my soul tote. Feeling hopeless in open water I'm hoping my soul float. Say I'm hoping for better days but I'm hoping for more hope. Life is a dirty bitch, I'm hoping for more soap. The holy water.
Verse 2:
Cleaning my sins for baptism. With 2-bit cartridges and I'm looking through Activision. After prison its probation. With no legislation. 35 years for doing time, with no hesitation. Patiently waiting, for my time, while watching this old timex. Cooking up ghetto dope, so I'm watching this old pyrex. And even though that I'm next, I'm the last man standing. I'm trying to bust the world wide open, Grand Canyon. Can't imagine going through life with no companionship. The first sign I see a nigga hating I abandoned ship. No wordplay I'm just sticking to the manuscript. Full speed ahead even when I win the championship. My achievements, can finalize some agreements. But disagreeing with my shit will turn to resent. It's like this... I was high I didn't write this. I hit the blunt my fingers started moving, and words just appeared on the paper. And for every 2 fans, it's about 5 haters. I ain't went nowhere I was on a hiatus. So how the hell we get imported if we ain't never migrated.
In the cul-de-sac, and Sahara be the court, no Van Dam, but blood be the sport. And I ain't got no choice but to ride my own course, so motherf*ck ya opinion, bitch I got my own voice, a nigga had a dream of riding round in a rolls Royce, but Shit I done made the wrong choice.
Hook:
Nobody knows the load my soul tote. Feeling hopeless in open water I'm hoping my soul float. Say I'm hoping for better days but I'm hoping for more hope. Life is a dirty bitch, I'm hoping for more soap. The holy water.
Verse 2:
Cleaning my sins for baptism. With 2-bit cartridges and I'm looking through Activision. After prison its probation. With no legislation. 35 years for doing time, with no hesitation. Patiently waiting, for my time, while watching this old timex. Cooking up ghetto dope, so I'm watching this old pyrex. And even though that I'm next, I'm the last man standing. I'm trying to bust the world wide open, Grand Canyon. Can't imagine going through life with no companionship. The first sign I see a nigga hating I abandoned ship. No wordplay I'm just sticking to the manuscript. Full speed ahead even when I win the championship. My achievements, can finalize some agreements. But disagreeing with my shit will turn to resent. It's like this... I was high I didn't write this. I hit the blunt my fingers started moving, and words just appeared on the paper. And for every 2 fans, it's about 5 haters. I ain't went nowhere I was on a hiatus. So how the hell we get imported if we ain't never migrated.
Writer: Damion Darnell Jones
Copyright: Lyrics © CARAVANMUSIC, CaravanMusic
Copyright: Lyrics © CARAVANMUSIC, CaravanMusic