You can't tell me how to be You can't tell me what I should see When I'm sleeping, I'm still believing Stripped of all identity I try to sleep, I grit
We all lie in a pile as the dead driver drives We all lie in a pile singing songs in straight lines We all lie in a pile as the dead driver drives We
I know I know something about you it's a secret something about you it's a scret something about you and its keeping us underground it's keeping our
There's poison in the boys in blue There's poison in the boys in blue Corruption, greed and feud are all I see You're in a disarray Things used to be
Take all the time you need to win all your fights and lose sight of everything come on come talk to me too scared to step up likke a heavyweight without
Go blank [4x] go, go blank [3x] go, go blank go blank and start again this time it feels like th walls are closing in distress always happens happiness
Sell the hollywood sign all the things that we'll get we'll still sing out favorite songs sink right into the cement sell the hollywood sign fifty feet
Get up get out of my life just leave me alone I with I could take your money and burn it down with your home I'm sorry I didn't mean it did I really
Give us this day our daily dead keep it in the news 'til the ban's been lifted when it's given a name and it's given a face it's easier to separate,
This is filty this is fucking insane [4x] kill me softly with a tie around my neck it's no the fabric it's the filthy fucking paycheck keep it bloody
Why are you coming back again? why are you seeing the same old friends? why are you coming around? don't you see it's the same old thing the same sad
When the blood was red and the lies were black and white they put their hands together they thought they have the right we know they made mistakes but
AIDs infested child molesters aren't sicker than me I see the world for what it is, beyond the white and the black The way the government downplays historical
m'reste encore des brolics pour exploser certain raiki, Cousin avec une equipe man du 100 % Trappes et D'Vice, Pour la Psy quatra, Marseille tra-trafique de blacks
menteurs et de charmes Sinon on monterait deja Y'a pas de racisme dans le monde de Ray Charles Explosif , texte plausible , nourris de scene d'apocalypse De l'embrouille a la tape de la tape
glace, Je vis seul dans une cabane la ou je parle a mon flash Je jouais au golf entre cailloux et bouse de vache, Quand je vis ce caro pilote par une bande de black
[Black Thought] From the Tunnels in the wee hours of the black morning From The Roots sprout the Foreign Objects family tree This is mad abstract All
