Artist: Bizarre f/ Nate Walka, Tech N9ne
Album:  Friday Night at St. Andrews
Song:   Believer
Typed by: Nickolye16@aol.com 

[Intro: Nate Walka]
Whoa-ohh-ohh-oh-whoa-ohhhh {"Honorable C-Note"}
Whoa-ohh-ohh-oh-whoa-ohhhh
Make me a believer
Whoa-ohh-ohh-oh-whoa-ohhhh
Make me a believer
Whoa-ohh-ohh-oh-whoa-ohhhh

[Chorus: Nate Walka]
I want what I can see
I want what I can see
Just one thing to believe
Just one thing to believe
Make me a believer
Whoa-ohh-ohh-oh-whoa-ohhhh
Make me a believer
Whoa-ohh-ohh-oh-whoa-ohhhh

[Bizarre]
Look at the sky, it's raining outside
But I got too much pride just to ask for a ride
Hold my head high, never ask why
Never ever ever seen a grown man cry
They took Bugz, and they murdered P
Sometimes I ask the Lord, why he ain't take me
Sittin by the beach, starin at the ocean
Kickin these raps that's full of emotion
Suicidal thoughts, goin through my head
Bizarre is alive but Rufus has been dead
I'm runnin out of time, I'm runnin out of rhymes
Grab the +Tech+, cause I'm runnin out of +Nines+

[Chorus]

[Bizarre]
And I believe, that I'm gon' make it
Don't ask for shit, man I just take it
Detroit, Michigan, home of the broke dreams
Abandoned houses, known crack fiends
Man I'm on lean just to escape reality
I'm losin weight, and I ain't countin no calories
Ain't no salary, they done closed down the plants
Green failin parentin, I'm stayin with my aunt
Who gon' give me a ride? Who gon' take me to school?
Who gon' help momma out when daddy actin a fool?
The D, watchin my people get slaughtered
Hurricane Katrina, went out the water
Who do you believe in, Heaven or Hell?
College or jail? Bed or a cell? Who got my bail?

[Chorus]

[Tech N9ne]
Mom's steady sick and it's right to the point where I need her
to be coherent cause Aaron's 'bout to be blarin through speakers
But it won't reach her when research feed her meds to get weaker
How can the devil play her world when it's so beneath her?
Give and ye shall receive and yet she's the receiver
of seizures and fevers, that's why I stay Ebenezer
That's why you hear sorrowful messages through your tweeters
Feelin my pain at my show in the front row and the bleachers
God seek her please so she breathes deeper
Not a preacher, free be disease either
On my knees for weeks, hurry retrieve her
Really need your deed to make me a believer

[Chorus]