Jump to content

What Song Are You Listening To Right Now?


Xann

Recommended Posts

7 hours ago, maqroll said:

Strange that he stole directly from his contemporaries and scored big hits like they were his own tunes.

Same as Jimmy Page. Page robbed old blues songs, without acknowledging where they originally came from, but there are also a couple of times I've noticed where he robbed off his contemporaries too. 

Edited by Rugeley Villa
Link to comment
Share on other sites

The moment you refuse the human rights to just a few, what happens when that view includes you?

For the soul of a nation, this is a struggle to save civilisation.

Demonstrations, overthrowing the occupation, the annihilation of mental colonisation.

For the soul of a nation, we fight for the future of our civilisation.

Destroy the corrupt government organisations, trying to survive cultural assassination.

 

 

 

 

Link to comment
Share on other sites


This is the place where the cops rush in the building
Paramilitary death squads murder your children
Empty shell of a man rippin' shots in the air
Soldiers dying out there, but nobody cares
Prepare for the future but make note of the past
Or be condemned to live it again and get blast
Class warfare kept outta the news
Replaced by a corporation's political views
Cause this is where the guns are manufactured and sold
The land that was stolen stripped of all of its gold
Old timers on the death bed speakin' the wisdom
Immigrants crucified by conservative Christians
Now we all got freedom to die in the street
But the difference is more of us die in a week
Than they die in a year I made it clear
Where I stand when the line is drawn
But now the line is gone
And nigga anything goes
The land where the guns don't let anything grow
And what the **** you niggas know about living in hell
You not built like me you never lived in a cell
You never gambled with your soul
**** the ice on your hand, gun in your palm
But you got a niggas life in your hand
Young man, just remember that slicing a gram
Is a bloody game, like throwin' mice in a fan
My words flow like the rivers thats west of Iran
The fertile crescent moon, with the star in the middle
I reveal the depth of history's scars when I scribble
I gave you the world, and I ain't even charged you a little
The martyr is crippled
The prophets are dead and buried, but the message is simple
And its not written down in holy books as a riddle

Link to comment
Share on other sites

×
×
  • Create New...
Â