& 4) His name is eternal - His power unknown, the ruler paternal - He watches alone, as great cities tumble and empires fall, admist this confusion the Hunter
and why entertain em old me woulda?? a lost my sensea??s ya??all just helping the new me regain em been punched in the face, it was either feed my family or hunt
think the shit is over, I'm standin' right behind ya You crossed the wrong muthafucka, now you paranoid 'Cause I'm a nigga these niggas just can't destroy I'm on the hunt
July There was not a cloud to speak of So the orange sun hung lonely in the sky I lay prone in my catboat home Thinking of fine nappy Jackie and his jazz cat's horn
as sharks, when we hunt our profession. (Let 'em know) You get the bull if you mess with the horns. You should told your homie, theres a lesson for em
Fear no man, bar none, be a hog like a wild bull Playas don't keep score Let 'em know that this is grown man shit ya fucking with Autoloaders, hunting
little Sir John and the nut-brown bowl Proved the strongest man at last The huntsman, he can't hunt the fox Nor so loudly to blow his horn And the tinker
storm" I was burned out from exhaustion, buried in the hail Poisoned in the bushes an' blown out on the trail Hunted like a crocodile, ravaged in the corn
the storm" I was burned out from exhaustion, buried in the hail Poisoned in the bushes an' blown out on the trail Hunted like a crocodile, ravaged in the corn
i heard the horn sound out the call air began to shake because it's hunting time again senses start to wake so you get up on your feet and you gather
Hunt. I'm chasing my shadow inside my own soul I am the persecutor of my self in the wild hunt The horned god take me through infernal journeys
Cry for the slaughter who would believe Hunting the red one - blood on their breath Searching horizons for clues of the kill Blowing their own horn -
sound you not the horn said he Lest our coming it would betray Now there was a man in lord barnard's train Who loved the little musgrave And he blew his horn
the wise elder ones how to slay god's lambs in masses. At the same hour in the great Colosseum of Rome, the lions hunt for frightened feeble christians
camp A packin' a pretty good load Well, who should they meet but the Devil himself A prancin' down the road Says he, "You ornery cowboy skunks You better hunt
Nightmares hunting the innerself Visions reflections of an afterlife Hunger for dimensions of the dragons lust Huge bright flames roar within the horned
