Isaiah 5:20 – Woe


Isaiah 5:20

…19to those who say, “Let Him hurry and hasten His work so that we may see it! Let the plan of the Holy One of Israel come so that we may know it!” …20Woe to those who call evil good and good evil, who turn darkness to light and light to darkness, who replace bitter with sweet and sweet with bitter. …21Woe to those who are wise in their own eyes and clever in their own sight.…




  1. Nipsey Hussle
    • Nipsey Hussle Through My Eyes (feat. Drake)
      • YouTube
        • Nipsey Hussle Through My Eyes (feat. Drake)
          Channel:- Kevin Macias
          Date Published:- 2021-January-24th
          Date Added:- 2021-February-6th



Nipsey Hussle

More or Less

Lyric Find


Uh, smoking Backs’ with OG
Pulled the carpet up, made mahogany low key
Know these niggas jealous, envious of my whole team
But I’ma kill these niggas broad day if it’s on me
Fully bossed up, niggas pockets need protein
I ain’t had much but you gotta chase your dream
Wrote it all down in my spot in like ’03
10 years later, big shout to my whole team
We gon’ fly to Africa, we gon’ stop in Rome first
Exchange a 100k, and then buy the whole store
And we buy the whole floor, fuck it I just want more
Look I got fans everywhere, we need a globe tour
And I need 100k in stock, that’s a low score
Bitches gotta talk less, fiends that’ll hold more
Bank accounts with less tax, overseas on show floors
Foreign shit, steering wheels opposite like Tom Boys
Only real niggas, V12’s in my convoy
All black tint, bad bitches, Mardi Gras boy (yeah)
Take ya top off, I’ll give you some beads hoe
I could turn your block to a free flow
Half-court shot to a freethrow
Impossible is nothing, Nike flow
It’s all in yo mind, it’s cerebral
I smoke so much weed, I should read more
Made so much cash I don’t need dough
I ate so much food that I feed more
So tired of this place, that I leave more
And when you this fly, nigga wings grow
Can’t call it cloud 9 ’til my team know
50 stores up, blowing racks in casinos
And I got Ginger with me
Grind hard ’til it benefit me
Shine hard, nigga literally
Only day ones and my killers with me
And them hoes like kill ’em Nipsey
See me out shopping, they be like what’s poppin’ ay?
We, something different
More or less
And I could tell, you could tell, too more or less
We, something different
Than now
More or less


Lil Wayne

B.B. King Freestyle



Ayy, the blues is now kickin’ and dinner is three Michelin
I don’t eat red meat, but still got beef sizzlin’
Know that I need discipline
I keep singin’ for all these hoes, they keep listenin’
Niggas love to bro up with the boy and dap fists-es
But we are not equivalent, dawg
I been an only child, don’t need siblings
And I’m past them like the times that he’s livin’ in, okay
Man, if you saw what I flew here, you’d be like “He’s sickenin'”
If you not runnin’ some top, we not gon’ keep kickin’ it
Classics I keep scribblin’, lights in the Universal building just keep flickerin’
Money just keep comin’ in, you would think I’m Irish
The way that it stays doublin’
I could feed a country with the tax that I pay governments
Whatever they’re doin’ with my cash is very troublin’
Okay, February came around, I used to get paid shovelin’
Sold clothes, walked dogs, trust me, I stay hustlin’
When it came to school, there’s no way that I’m A-plus’n it
So I just dropped out of it, trust me, I’m not proud of it
Niggas get too comfy in they spot, they get knocked out of it
Niggas get a gun just so they can make props out of it
Shawty make a scene in the house, she get locked out of it
Yeah, you not ’bout to be chillin’ in this bitch with kicked feet up
I’ma make you bounce out this hoe like Big Freedia
Pete O. used to throw a purple tint on a two liter
First private plane I ever rode was a eight-seater
Before that, I got the bedroom hot with a space heater
On top of that, I didn’t have shit to my name either, that’s real
But now I’m givin’ house tours ’til it’s back to world tours
Play that “Mask Off” when they find the real cure
I might not be good for her, but I’m real to her
Got no time for her, but give Richard Mille to her
That’s the only way I know how to express love
My dawgs love sticks and drums like they Questlove
All them jokes about Aubrey they got me messed up, for real
I come with a lot of complications inside me
It’s always people misleadin’ me that are tryna guide me
Everyone wants to try me, but no one wants to buy me
Everyone wants to meet me, but no one wants to keep me
Everyone talkin’ lemons when everything is peachy
Everyone got they hands out, and it ain’t to reach me
Mhm, mhm
Everyone got they glass out, let’s drink to Weezy
Every nigga that stare me down just came to see me
Choppin’ up a lil’ cash cow, that’s steak I’m eatin’
Check deposits, high-risers with extra closets
The sex platonic, I talk intelligent, text Ebonics
The electronic guitars whinin’, that’s just Nirvana
Tommy gun on the counter I call it Mr. Thomas
That’ll keep niggas honest
I’m dozin’ off in the driver seat ’cause the seat give massages
Decimal point money, these numbers too steep for commas
I’m eye to eye with niggas, I can’t help but to see beyond ’em
Got a two-seater problem
Niggas thinkin’ they cold, I knock the flu-season out ’em
Bitches forget they hoes, and that’s when Tunechi remind ’em
I used to fuck Gucci models, I’m fuckin’ Gucci designers
I keep it too G regardless, I’m gettin’ too deep for divers
Let me resurface, I’m flexin’ on purpose
She especially curvy, bet she be servin’ every purpose
Perfect, I’m better than perfect, I’m sick, I need to see a medical person
Eatin’ all of these rappers with these edible verses
All I gotta be is all that I can possibly
She really, really into me, then suck it all up out of me
I’m proud of me, I don’t know how to be sorry, apologies
You fuckin’ with my math, you better know some trigonometry
‘Cause I’ma be bustin’, leave your lima bean at your mama feet
I flip the economy like Dominique Dawes
They say I’m trippin’, I guess they wishin’ I finally fall
I don’t need war, I need a bitch that know I’ma need yours
I’ma need more, niggas is shifty like Honda Accords
Fire alarm, ain’t got no ceilings, we climbin’ the walls
Higher than yours, I fuck your bitch and she die in my arms
Lion has roared, No Ceilings 3 with my mind on the fourth
Holla at your boy
Source: Musixmatch
Songwriters: Dwayne Carter / Aubrey Drake Graham / Alicia Keys / Matthew Jehu Samuels / Kameron Cole
B.B. King Freestyle lyrics © Young Money Publishing Inc.

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