can't sleep at night, nah Voices getting louder now she's fleeing from the car Words are like bullets, when they heal they leave scars If love is a battlefield
and sad Yes, a fouler thing has not existed Yes, it's true I'm that sick and twisted Sick and twisted, bent and gnarled Rigid, raving, deeply scarred
to the pen May these bars reach through your bars And ma, whenever saying it Here's your heart Cops show, least the stands fill, you all Love is a battlefield We all get scarred
I lounge Fightin' wars from dusk till dawn In the trenches of hell There's more blood spilled than Hamburger Hill The planet earth is the battlefield
you feel the wrath of my clappin (Boom!) Fire flashin, two holes up in your head matchin Dope fiend in the corner, itch from eight scars scratchin (Huh
blood of angels cry To fill your servants cup with light For in his heart the spirits rise, rise To search and trace the scars of love and infinite betrayal
We bear the bloodline of the conqueror Behold this war-scarred coat of arms Weathered and worn are we But with an eye ajar we sleep with blade in hand
I got my walls up, walls up, walls up I got my walls up, walls up, walls up Watchin you Runnin through My battlefield Broken hearts Battle scars Of those
these bars reach through your bar And ma, when mary sing it heals yo heart Cause solice is stands filled you are Love is a battlefield, we all get scarred
still yield to our swords and spears, no matter how it sparkled. The Roman scoundrel, Governor Suetonius Paullinus, battle-scarred from his campaigns
of prey strike with lightning speed Wagons of war collide Metallic plague armored locusts drive Into the storm of steel Exterminate - feed the battlefield
burnt And the scarred And the torn And the squashed And the cut And the forgotten Body, and flesh, and energy The last makings of the future Upon green banks of unseen battlefields
s right, man (I'll die for you) Just some real shit... [Ghostface Killah:] Aiyo, I'll die for the prophets and I'll die for the Lord On the battlefield
weapon, the weapon of weapon of mass destruction Of body combustin trust if it come outside See it's real in the battlefield, plenty fuckin battle scars
Screaming ghosts roam the silent battlefield Locked in eternal conflict neither side never to yield The blood soaked soil littered with shrapnel, flesh
essence of contradiction brings Blind faith built on sins Propaganda of unhealing scars The catholic cancer wont reach this far Final silence of the battlefield
The hand you once adored because... Now you've gone too far. So let me show you How I will win every war and the battlefield is all Mines. Thieving