CHORUS:
From the womb to the tomb
[Earth to dust]
From the earth to the moon
[The woman I trust]
And from the sea to the sky
[I see reflection]
And from the brain through the eye
[Another soul blessed on]
From the celtic tribes, and the highland plains
I hit you with the quickness, like bad brains
I ain't blowin' no spikes, no queers, no dykes
Just the pale-faced cracker in the high-top nikes
Dope bustin' mics, I smoke cannibus
And if it's God's day off, in the cig I trust
You don't think I bust, you don't know my style I got kids that'll hit ya on the low-profile
I've been from 248, out to east New York
My earth don't wear swine,
I don't eat pork From no rusty fork, or no silver spoon
Put down your silver platter, kid, come check the data
My crew's chalk full of free information
It's ji`had, Mecca be the destination
Glory be to God one more prostration
The root and foundation of civilization
CHORUS
VERSE:
Divine Styler
Makin' shit happen, transition to casual moods
I'm livin' revelations, for real spiracle
I unroll the mythical chronic, keep an airborne stash
To make Divine's stein shine in this killah rhyme clash
Now seven false gods, (c'mon) step through the temple,
Loose joints tremble, a brother said I resemble,
The teachings of Jesus they sat down and said teach us,
The illest earthly dreams of drama homicide schemes.
I said brother mind want cream, but brothers i see green,
Of a once warm flesh to arrest their peace.
Never release your finger piece to go up in you with no crease.
Then a priest overcame one sunlight, and beamed,
And blessed on the DNA legacy in me.
CHORUS
VERSE:
Divine Styler
My teacher teaches the wickedness, out of my swiftness.
My mental be kickin' the shit out my physical,
Ridiciulous duels, and ridiculous deals,
Make a brother want to clot some chrome inch steel.
My finger on the trigger a destiny for real.
I sit in purgatory tryin' to break seven seals.
Nine hells deep I see nine of me creep,
But divine of me seek to put nine of me to sleep.
I exhaust my existence, the pain is persistent.
My mind got the quickness, I'm on my own hit-list,
I head to gates of warped states and parralellistics.
Now if knowledge is the essence of every man,
Link him up with his wisdom so they understand,
No matter, who ya be set your culture free,
Cause' its the final hour time to refine your power.
We're all equal, livin' man is God,
You can't destroy what I build, 'cause i'm all of me killed.
That's my cypher, my atom is a sphere and a square
'Cause I'm here and I'm there from the sea to the air
CHORUS
Womb To The Tomb Lyrics performed by House Of Pain are property and copyright of the authors, artists and labels. You should note that Womb To The Tomb Lyrics performed by House Of Pain is only provided for educational purposes only and if you like the song you should buy the CD