So big the that sky would open up
Pitch for the angels
That's right a pitch for the angels
On the micro bus weaving around the township
Psyco stunts believing this correct route shit
Moody cabbie muddy puddle reflecting my avi
A.N.C. twitter relief style
Profile wild mad traffic in my attic
Meanwhile taking in sounds style wild as we arrive
At the central workshop I heard hot sounds drums roll
Humanistic hustling sounds tussling go down
Renown violence shhhhhh re-crowned silence
Sometimes when Durban roads bend the guidance got this work-a- haulic
Steady yearning for the islands
Shit it's business at hand I passed point road
Keeping my pockets closed thieves rocking Mr. Point clothes
Anoint the roads with my ashes
You believe these scenes on the postcards? it's adolescence
Stretched out in Medellin
Etched out in vivid dreams
Sunbeams enter the center of Pablo's scene
Searching the landscape sunlight lace my balcony
Sun draped the empanadas I taste
Delicious neighbor across the way doing her dishes
I waved she say "eros guapo" what is this
Business at hand new land but same difference
Mountainous slums niggas and drugs
From out the fog emerging Colombian thugs
They show love he said "yo you represent us"
From up above to down here hit me off with a pound and a hug
My nigga Gab showed us the slums grimy shit
No trouble in customs they rushed us through
Copa airlines await a hairline rush
Just like us Different hates different lust
Lusting guns bust that's how they do us
Awesome dreams from the bottom spotting the rotten
Houses in between every empty field is it Sodom
I wonder Pops took us out the hood next to so called good
Neighbors but we un-wanted
They god was willie lynch and take this good book it's his
Whenever I burn bridges I light a path to the finish
Graphic cynics bankrupting our districts gentrifying our eyes
Have us believing July sidewalks is frigid
F*cking our minds guns rule Detroiters we blind
Or oblivious non-chivalrious to her civil-ness
No difference blanketed images
I've travelled across Bogota bridges
Built my way past KwaZulu henchmen
The lynch pin is the axis of the earth
Birth survival like a cactus vital to that h2O balance
Baring talons and talent by the gallons
We all belong in a palace Kings & Queens
Speaking the same language
Banging this beat with malice 'til we ashes
Until We're Ashes Video (MV)
Kevlaar 7 - Until We're Ashes Lyrics
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We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
So big the that sky would open up
Pitch for the angels
That's right a pitch for the angels
On the micro bus weaving around the township
Psyco stunts believing this correct route shit
Moody cabbie muddy puddle reflecting my avi
A.N.C. twitter relief style
Profile wild mad traffic in my attic
Meanwhile taking in sounds style wild as we arrive
At the central workshop I heard hot sounds drums roll
Humanistic hustling sounds tussling go down
Renown violence shhhhhh re-crowned silence
Sometimes when Durban roads bend the guidance got this work-a- haulic
Steady yearning for the islands
Shit it's business at hand I passed point road
Keeping my pockets closed thieves rocking Mr. Point clothes
Anoint the roads with my ashes
You believe these scenes on the postcards? it's adolescence
Stretched out in Medellin
Etched out in vivid dreams
Sunbeams enter the center of Pablo's scene
Searching the landscape sunlight lace my balcony
Sun draped the empanadas I taste
Delicious neighbor across the way doing her dishes
I waved she say "eros guapo" what is this
Business at hand new land but same difference
Mountainous slums niggas and drugs
From out the fog emerging Colombian thugs
They show love he said "yo you represent us"
From up above to down here hit me off with a pound and a hug
My nigga Gab showed us the slums grimy shit
No trouble in customs they rushed us through
Copa airlines await a hairline rush
Just like us Different hates different lust
Lusting guns bust that's how they do us
Awesome dreams from the bottom spotting the rotten
Houses in between every empty field is it Sodom
I wonder Pops took us out the hood next to so called good
Neighbors but we un-wanted
They god was willie lynch and take this good book it's his
Whenever I burn bridges I light a path to the finish
Graphic cynics bankrupting our districts gentrifying our eyes
Have us believing July sidewalks is frigid
F*cking our minds guns rule Detroiters we blind
Or oblivious non-chivalrious to her civil-ness
No difference blanketed images
I've travelled across Bogota bridges
Built my way past KwaZulu henchmen
The lynch pin is the axis of the earth
Birth survival like a cactus vital to that h2O balance
Baring talons and talent by the gallons
We all belong in a palace Kings & Queens
Speaking the same language
Banging this beat with malice 'til we ashes
Pitch for the angels
That's right a pitch for the angels
On the micro bus weaving around the township
Psyco stunts believing this correct route shit
Moody cabbie muddy puddle reflecting my avi
A.N.C. twitter relief style
Profile wild mad traffic in my attic
Meanwhile taking in sounds style wild as we arrive
At the central workshop I heard hot sounds drums roll
Humanistic hustling sounds tussling go down
Renown violence shhhhhh re-crowned silence
Sometimes when Durban roads bend the guidance got this work-a- haulic
Steady yearning for the islands
Shit it's business at hand I passed point road
Keeping my pockets closed thieves rocking Mr. Point clothes
Anoint the roads with my ashes
You believe these scenes on the postcards? it's adolescence
Stretched out in Medellin
Etched out in vivid dreams
Sunbeams enter the center of Pablo's scene
Searching the landscape sunlight lace my balcony
Sun draped the empanadas I taste
Delicious neighbor across the way doing her dishes
I waved she say "eros guapo" what is this
Business at hand new land but same difference
Mountainous slums niggas and drugs
From out the fog emerging Colombian thugs
They show love he said "yo you represent us"
From up above to down here hit me off with a pound and a hug
My nigga Gab showed us the slums grimy shit
No trouble in customs they rushed us through
Copa airlines await a hairline rush
Just like us Different hates different lust
Lusting guns bust that's how they do us
Awesome dreams from the bottom spotting the rotten
Houses in between every empty field is it Sodom
I wonder Pops took us out the hood next to so called good
Neighbors but we un-wanted
They god was willie lynch and take this good book it's his
Whenever I burn bridges I light a path to the finish
Graphic cynics bankrupting our districts gentrifying our eyes
Have us believing July sidewalks is frigid
F*cking our minds guns rule Detroiters we blind
Or oblivious non-chivalrious to her civil-ness
No difference blanketed images
I've travelled across Bogota bridges
Built my way past KwaZulu henchmen
The lynch pin is the axis of the earth
Birth survival like a cactus vital to that h2O balance
Baring talons and talent by the gallons
We all belong in a palace Kings & Queens
Speaking the same language
Banging this beat with malice 'til we ashes
Writer: Aundre Woodland, Joseph Wilson, Kevin Cross
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid