through my eyes - cameron uzoka lyrics
[verse 1: cameron uzoka]
i feel estatic
pondering why living life equates to death like expressions in a quadratic formulae
love of money is the root of evil if you incorporate
some form of liquid making trees to grow
depression will be in labour giving birth to another girl today
she’s sabotaging her body for glamour and fame
temple of the holy spirit is every inch of your frame
by exploiting it, is like going to church and urinating cross the altar of god
corrosion of our soul, is whether we dine at the table of the devils or join saintly rebels
we can make a house from a pebble
something out of nothing making enemies unsettled
join me like the immediate merging of two pieces of metal
i live in a town where you explore other planes
kid perishes, apparently no-one knows his name
he’s only labelled by one tag
a t-tle that guided him to spiritual terrain
satan’s detained mind, body and soul
now he’s in perpetual darkness with no-one to hold, he’s forever old, a woman’s worst dream
conversing with the fallen ones
were the machines and the street is where there storing guns
another busts on top, bullet makes contact
like extraterrestrials asking humans where his sons at
ghetto fathers, are fraudulent they only credit is
borrow everything and pay back with another wish
cannabis is distributed like ideas in a conference
have confidence in yourself
cause’ that pr-noun is never ever second to one
so live your life thoroughly and never give up
[hook: cameron uzoka]
you gotta be what you wanna be
say what you gotta say say what you see
look through my eyes and see h-ll on earth through my window
streets are cold, look hear the wind blow
you gotta be what you wanna be
say what you gotta say say what you see
oh, sadness isn’t crying, death doesn’t mean dying
[verse 2: cameron uzoka]
people with a basic understanding have the biggest faith
the ones who oppose sharing are the ones with the biggest cake
we yearn for more, we’re modern vampires
asleep in the morning and at night we are yawning
touring the streets looking for blood
like an organ donor a heartbeat from death soshow him some love
bringing forth death and including the reapers
ready to show down when your resting your feet up
in our society, priority is the cheese
like french bakers intent on beating their counterparts
moneys good to get but remenber nothing does ever last
accomplish the task of hiding you with a better mask
so let the buretta ask
cl!ck clack to your membrane when the milli calls
so is the murder enough
or do we have to k!ll k!ll until murder is soft
[hook: cameron uzoka]
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