re all right where we should be Lift my arms out wide I open my eyes And now all I wanna see Is a sky full of lighters A sky full of lighters [Eminem] By
face y'all Is this reality or my imagination? But niggas really watchin' me is my evaluation Watchin' how I move Captivated by the thug in me Studyin' my music
got the game full So he move to a rural area to keep cool They snitchin' on a snitch now, it's nothin' to tell Nowadays, your circles should be small
profit Folks rush in, 3 letters try and stop it F-B-I-R-S-D-E-A (FBI, IRS, DEA) One letter short but still muthaf-ck the DA. We play by the rules as they
[Madchild:] Who raised by wolves, trained by gorillas Caged fighters, gangstas and killers, Skateboard kids, successful drug dealers, Pro snowboarders
happened If music was about inovatin' and penetratin' generations By generatin' musical intergration It wouldn't be about limitation and demonstration Imitation within a blatant looks just disentigratin' It ain't about the music
as a kind of cultural ambassador and there were lots of press conferences scheduled around the performances. The journalists usually started things off by
is the philosophers' stone Our music is our alchemy, we stand as the manifested Equivalent of three buckets of water and a hand full of minerals Thus
down its pristine cage So the music, so the trial Vows of sacrifice, headless chickens Dance in circles, they the blessed Man and wife, undressed by
the Play Station on Janet Jackson full effect Use the full, army effect That means you'll never come full effect Once the circle starts to form B boys
boys is bout it, bout it The noise from [unverified] be drowned out by the crowd And you'll be laying on the ground getting trampled by people dancing
music And I've still got my eyes on the land and the sky You sing for your friends and your family I'll walk green pastures by and by
me. I can't be held accountable, so instead I pass the blame, besides I wanna live forever like the cast of fame. serious trouble will pass me by
wanna boo me we can do this in a circle of peers, tell your bitch to kick a beat so I can work you to tears. I've made a full of strangers throw hands
Music by Loreena McKennitt Lyrics by William Butler Yeats, arr. by Loreena McKennitt Beloved, gaze in thine own heart, The holy tree is growing there
's got the game full So he move to a rural area to keep cool He snitchin' on a snitch now, there's nothin' to tell Nowadays, your circles should be small
and watch the hands fly, in the middle of December I wash the wife-beaters Heaters on full blast with some [Incomprehensible] We like scavengers circling