Song Lyrics

I don't need these highs to raise me
I don't need these highs to lift me up
I don't want your smiles to wake me
I don't think that I should slowly go
Never ending trials I am facing
I don't want their wives to mix me up
I'm all fucked up today
My lucky friend says your luck will end today
I don't need these highs to raise me
I don't need these lows to numb
I don't want these trials to be raiding me
I don't need their noses to nose my heart
That's a start
Let's get it on
My lucky friend says your luck will end today
My lucky friend says your luck will end today

Ice cold on the battlefield
Twenty below was the wind chill
Winchester rifle with the hot lead
It burnt a hole in their fucking heads
Bullets ring on the battlefield
The survivor is the one who kills
Now they drown in their own blood
Men laying where they once stood
Through the fire and the gunsmoke
Niggas crawling with their back broke
And they're hopeful that they don't croak
Bullets spraying and there's no hope
From (?) I slay my enemy, drained him of his energy
I fight for this victory, you die in your iniquity
Ice c-c-cold on the battlefield
Twenty below motherfucker, that's the wind chill
A thousand men they come and they fall
One by one
Call the preacher, the mortician
You can't stop this coalition
Its like I'm fighting against the prohibition
In the sunlight, bong, you see that sword glisten

My lucky friend says your luck will end today
Now we got this taste for blood
Now we got this taste for blood from the
This pain is all but surmounted by peace
It truly is

Killa Hill, Brownville
Never ran, never will
Besmirch the quarter mil
Movie cams on y grill
Never jam, never squeal
C'mon every wheel
A bag of cash in the stash
Queen on the bills
I'm just one of my mom's eight born sons
One of those nine swordsmen
Slice your neck with a tongue
Its an Ol' Dirty cousin
A student of Allah's justice
Boosting my mind
(?) the atom bomb to crush us
I bathe in the moonlight
Gain praise in the sunlight
Seen the platoon strike at midnight to the noonlight
Oh what a life
With just a butter knife they could hijack your crew (?) interrupt your life
Then raise the price of grass, hash, gas, and rice
I send a white square (?) to sacrifice the night

One by one
One by one
One by one
One by one
One by one

Robert F. Diggs, Paul Julian Banks