the fires Of self-indulgence of an empire wasted Outside it's falling from it's grace Is this all we have to show The falling of a dynasty of sacred
Vertaling: Geen Motiv. Val van die genade.
closer into the fires Of self-indulgence of an empire wasted Outside it's falling from it's grace Is this all we have to show The falling of a dynasty
broken weeping To see the dead awake from sleeping How fire does fall and quench their yearning I love to watch the lost returning Where can we go from
Everybody pop your knuckles when the style divorces vertical Marveling at the spite with which it curdled Outside my tenement grows a little warmth From
C-Note and Willean, and them boys from Botany You brought in Big Moe, my nigga Z-Ro Mike D and Clay-Do, Lil' Flip and Lil' O Them boys from the Fo', them boys from
