paroles de chanson Stolen Van Gogh - Bronze Nazareth
                                                (Intro: 
                                                Bronze 
                                                Nazareth)
 
                                    
                                
                                                Yo, 
                                                it′s 
                                                Nazareth, 
                                                baby
 
                                    
                                
                                                Yeah, 
                                                you 
                                                know 
                                                what 
                                                it 
                                                is
 
                                    
                                
                                                Now 
                                                do 
                                                it, 
                                                nigga, 
                                                get 
                                                it
 
                                    
                                
                                                Let's 
                                                smoke 
                                                    a 
                                                heart... 
                                                yeah. 
                                                yo.
 
                                    
                                
                                                (Bronze 
                                                Nazareth)
 
                                    
                                
                                                Smoking 
                                                    a 
                                                bold 
                                                bogey, 
                                                hoping 
                                                the 
                                                rose 
                                                hold 
                                                me 
                                                down
 
                                    
                                
                                                So 
                                                    I 
                                                can 
                                                stroke 
                                                    a 
                                                pound 
                                                of 
                                                gold 
                                                ropes 
                                                around 
                                                my 
                                                crown
 
                                    
                                
                                                Boldy 
                                                tote 
                                                the 
                                                only 
                                                pound 
                                                    I 
                                                ever 
                                                held, 
                                                my 
                                                mic 
                                                is 
                                                like
 
                                    
                                
                                                Whistling 
                                                hollow 
                                                tips 
                                                from 
                                                out 
                                                of 
                                                clips, 
                                                that 
                                                slip 
                                                from 
                                                solid 
                                                grips
 
                                    
                                
                                                Feathers 
                                                on 
                                                the 
                                                down 
                                                floats, 
                                                street 
                                                measures 
                                                that 
                                                surround 
                                                folks
 
                                    
                                
                                                Could 
                                                drive 
                                                an 
                                                insane 
                                                man, 
                                                sane
 
                                    
                                
                                                Like 
                                                crashing 
                                                planes 
                                                in 
                                                the 
                                                buildings, 
                                                    I 
                                                got 
                                                explaining 
                                                to 
                                                do
 
                                    
                                
                                                These 
                                                crooks 
                                                tricked 
                                                the 
                                                art 
                                                and 
                                                ran, 
                                                like 
                                                the 
                                                stolen 
                                                Van 
                                                Gogh
 
                                    
                                
                                                Holding 
                                                the 
                                                candle, 
                                                to 
                                                the 
                                                best 
                                                of 
                                                them, 
                                                street 
                                                veteran 
                                                vandal
 
                                    
                                
                                                Settle 
                                                and 
                                                handle, 
                                                season 
                                                beef 
                                                like 
                                                electrical 
                                                seats
 
                                    
                                
                                                I′m 
                                                    a 
                                                beast, 
                                                nigga, 
                                                    I 
                                                call 
                                                your 
                                                bluff, 
                                                like 
                                                "You 
                                                next, 
                                                nigga"
 
                                    
                                
                                                You'd 
                                                rather 
                                                end 
                                                    a 
                                                fight 
                                                with 
                                                me, 
                                                with 
                                                your 
                                                index 
                                                finger
 
                                    
                                
                                                I'm 
                                                complexed, 
                                                nigga, 
                                                driving 
                                                whips 
                                                back 
                                                to 
                                                the 
                                                plantation
 
                                    
                                
                                                You 
                                                won′t 
                                                understand 
                                                of 
                                                my 
                                                lines, 
                                                it 
                                                takes 
                                                much 
                                                patience
 
                                    
                                
                                                My 
                                                words 
                                                so 
                                                real, 
                                                you 
                                                can 
                                                watch 
                                                what 
                                                I′m 
                                                saying
 
                                    
                                
                                                My 
                                                thoughts 
                                                staying 
                                                scary 
                                                like 
                                                you 
                                                came 
                                                in 
                                                and 
                                                caught 
                                                God 
                                                praying
 
                                    
                                
                                                To 
                                                who, 
                                                in 
                                                heaven's 
                                                elevator, 
                                                    I 
                                                vocally 
                                                murder 
                                                you
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                past 
                                                through 
                                                like 
                                                Ash 
                                                Wednesday, 
                                                unnoticed
 
                                    
                                
                                                Blend 
                                                in, 
                                                like 
                                                cameras 
                                                unfocused
 
                                    
                                
                                                The 
                                                roaches 
                                                scatter 
                                                ashes, 
                                                floaters
 
                                    
                                
                                                Slow 
                                                as 
                                                falling 
                                                daggers, 
                                                make 
                                                your 
                                                blood 
                                                shatter
 
                                    
                                
                                                Multiple 
                                                stab 
                                                wound 
                                                plaques, 
                                                engineer 
                                                trained 
                                                from 
                                                far 
                                                over
 
                                    
                                
                                                Half 
                                                moon 
                                                tracks, 
                                                and 
                                                that′s 
                                                that
 
                                    
                                 
                            1 In the Beginning - Intro
2 The Pain
3 More Than Gold (feat. Timbo King)
4 Killa Beez Attack (Skit)
5 The Bronzeman (feat. Killa Sin)
6 One Plan (feat. Byata)
7 Instrumental Interlude
8 Stolen Van Gogh
9 5th Chamber (feat. 12:00, Sean Price & Prodigal Sunn)
10 Stupid F@#king White Man (Skit)
11 Good Morning (A Nice Hell)
12 Rare Breed (feat. Phillie)
13 Hear What I Say
14 Black Royalty
15 Detroit (feat. Phillie & Kevlaar 7)
16 $ (aka Cash Rule)
17 Poem Burial Ground
18 The Great Migration
19 Bronze Halls - Outro
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