bout hate In a way that is meant And you?ll ask these questions And you?ll ask these questions And you?ll ask these questions And you?ll ask these questions
how sad they end their lives... And if I ask these questions What would you say if the answer's given the same time? And if you know these questions
Превод: Ярост. Въпроси.
?est au pouvoir qu?on nuit Quand un frere meurt dans nos rues la nuit ? Quand nos meres pleurent les fachos sourient ? Parce qu?on veut plus que ca continue ainsi: Refrain Questions
sad they end their lives... And if I ask these questions What would you say if the answer's given the same time? And if you know these questions Why
when you die But some cry, and gets by, while others choose to wonder why His life was took at such an early age A young nigga who lived in a rage died
Sodom Landed on a sick canvas Now I roam this dead planet Head bandaged, insane Preachin' God's commandment, feel me I move through the dark rages and
Makin breakin and takin all of the suckers around Puttin fear in the heart, at the top of the chart Stunning gunning and funning, cause Run's running this art DJ's facing the rage
I've wept for those who suffer long But how I weep for those who've gone In rooms of grief and questioned wrong But keep on killing It's in the soul
I've tried livin' it risky, relied on women and whiskey To chase my blues, turn my nights to days First rage only a pastime, with age more than a lifetime
Now I'm back out on the streets again It never rains unless it pours Try to get back on my feet again I hear the raging thunder as it roars Tonight,
the mansion, hunger in the rented room Hunger on the TV, hunger on the printed page And there's a God-sized hunger underneath the laughing and the rage
There is a war raging on Between the right and wrong And we have encountered the darkness But as each night moves along We face another dawn To reach
is best for all I need you desperately to calm the rage in me It gets harder for me to conceive, how you could choose to love me? But you know the questions
on dragging this weight A cold steel hand that won't let go Acid-filled thoughts out of control I built myself a nice little cage With bars of anger and a lock of rage
on dragging this weight A cold steel hand that won't let go Acid filled thoughts out of control I built myself a nice little cage With bars of anger and a lock of rage
Johnny Depp would call me on the phone And Johnny Depp would call me on the phone, I know I'd be the greatest singer on the radio Leaning on the raging
