to face the music Face the music, face the music Face the music, face the music Face the music, face the music Face the music, face the music Face the music, face
the corner, around the corner Dont hold back You got to give what you got, give what you got You got to face the music, face the music, Face the music, face
yo face Would you dust me or somthin, you must know you gonna catch a case I'm a straight head bust ya Seperate and destruct ya Dont wanna have no Juvey wanna make a ghost
to point the finger {*1} {*2} Boom boom boom on your black ass, bitch {*1} {*2} Niggaz love to point the finga Boom boom boom on your black ass, bitch
some other shit, run up on your mother shit Hockey mask, black tape, tapin up your baby brother shit Two guns, one in your face, one in my waist Empty
Welcome to Jamrock Out in the streets, they call it murder! [Verse 2] Welcome to Jamrock, poor people ah dead at random Political violence, can done! Pure ghost
tower. The cold-blooded moon. The captain waits above the celebration Sending his thoughts to a beloved maid Whose ebony face is beyond communication
fucked up killa And I'm gon' ride, won't lose no sleep over nuthin' You can save it friend But all these years, Face to face ain't nobody said nuthin'
Leave the acid kids in their green fishbowls today Just leave the sad guitar in its hardshell case Leave the worried look on your lover's face Let the
Leave the acid kids in their green fishbowls today. Leave the sad guitar in its hard-shell case. Leave the worried look on your lover's face. Let the
: Raney William's playground was among Haven's streets Where he ran past melted candles and flower wreaths Names and photos of the young black faces
: Out here in panic and alarm Black shapes gather in the distance The first drops land on the window The first sign that there's something wrong Which
Jamrock, Welcome to Jamrock Out in the streets, they call it murder! [Verse 2] Welcome to Jamdown, poor people a dead at random Political violence, can't done! Pure ghost
: Welcome to jamrock Welcome to jamrock Out in the street, they call it murder Verse 2: Welcome to jamdown Poor people a dead at random Political violence can done Bare ghost
the cloudy draw. Yip-i-ya-a, Yip-i-ya-o, Ghost riders in the sky. Their brands were still on fire and their hoofs were made of steel. Their horns were black
up and down People locked the doors of their floors Shadows are fast like a flying horse A short attack, like a maniac Confused by the ghost in black
with a thousand faces Unwanted posters of the haunted places Roll up for the ghost train Non-stop through the city Step right up and show your face We