I want you to feature as my future-
as they sing songs and tell tales,
of our love that was given-
its mighty midas touch from yours.
I want them to envy you like-
the devil did Adam as if angels,
are bowing down in respect,
over the ardent love I give you.
I want God clap, his magnificent hands,
and tell the angels and cherubs,
"Ebrahim's such a good sport,
he deserves a love award."
I want you to smile to death Malik;
the angel of death won't be able-
to pull your soul from your mouth,
it'll moonwalk from your ears doing the shoki.
I want you to cry only tears of joy,
that'll fill an ocean so big,
it'd be the greatest tourist attraction-
wrought by the works of love.
I want my love to sink
into the arteries of your heart like a tattoo,
and the only way you'd escape it-
is if your soul left your body.
I want us to die hand in hand till the ground;
ayeh, if I go first I'll haunt and posses you,
so we can share the vacuum of your dear soul,
and our love can live on.
I want us to have an army of fighters,
that's patriotic about our love.
So that those that envy us,
are gunned down at our formidable bankers.
I'm going to write a song that the world will sing,
in celebration and reverence of our love-
on the public holiday,
they'll set out for our great love.
I want our children's children,
to study about us in their syllabus,
as they make research-
over the scribes and information of our love.
I want a monumental statue of us,
that they kneel before and idolise- to find love.
That'll make cupid so angry,
he'll haunt our ghosts.
I want myths to spread around,
that'll force children to love like us,
and that if they didn't,
we would haunt them in their sleep.
You're not a dime to me,
cause your worth more than smelted coins;
ayeh you're a grain of sugar in tons of salt,
hard to find and the sweetest of them all...
as they sing songs and tell tales,
of our love that was given-
its mighty midas touch from yours.
I want them to envy you like-
the devil did Adam as if angels,
are bowing down in respect,
over the ardent love I give you.
I want God clap, his magnificent hands,
and tell the angels and cherubs,
"Ebrahim's such a good sport,
he deserves a love award."
I want you to smile to death Malik;
the angel of death won't be able-
to pull your soul from your mouth,
it'll moonwalk from your ears doing the shoki.
I want you to cry only tears of joy,
that'll fill an ocean so big,
it'd be the greatest tourist attraction-
wrought by the works of love.
And if you don't want this love, I'll tie you in a bag and force you to have it.. #extreme! |
into the arteries of your heart like a tattoo,
and the only way you'd escape it-
is if your soul left your body.
I want us to die hand in hand till the ground;
ayeh, if I go first I'll haunt and posses you,
so we can share the vacuum of your dear soul,
and our love can live on.
I want us to have an army of fighters,
that's patriotic about our love.
So that those that envy us,
are gunned down at our formidable bankers.
I'm going to write a song that the world will sing,
in celebration and reverence of our love-
on the public holiday,
they'll set out for our great love.
I want our children's children,
to study about us in their syllabus,
as they make research-
over the scribes and information of our love.
I want a monumental statue of us,
that they kneel before and idolise- to find love.
That'll make cupid so angry,
he'll haunt our ghosts.
I want myths to spread around,
that'll force children to love like us,
and that if they didn't,
we would haunt them in their sleep.
You're not a dime to me,
cause your worth more than smelted coins;
ayeh you're a grain of sugar in tons of salt,
hard to find and the sweetest of them all...
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