Braindead
Bomb the Bass, Justin Warfield
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Flows beware for those who dare Inhale balloons of tunes and spoons floating overhead while I Step to the Dark Side of the Moon Like a piper at the gates of dawn calling to the fools, granny Takes a trip through fields of joy Black boots stomp, proceeds poppy fields following this baby boy At last I found My Own Private Idaho A Coney Island of the, but now I think I gotta go I rode in upon a storm the London fog Had to ride the six-seven through the layers of smog Feeling down by law like I was Jim Jarmusch Pictures in my brain just like Diane Arbus Too much combustion gets my brain dusted Shadows of the pain sucking on a dead man's brain Too much combustion gets my brain dusted Shadows of the pain sucking on a young man's brain Too much combustion gets my brain dusted Shadows of the pain sucking on a dead man's brain Too much combustion gets my brain dusted Shadows of the pain sucking on a young man's brain Always, feeling lucky like you was my sweet leaf Generals gathered in the masses at Fort Spleef Play naked twister with my twin sister 'Til you walked in my shoes You cannot claim a blister In my lava lamp performed a Black Sabbath Speaking in tongues so druids start to panic Like I was sippin' Moloko with the Milk Bar trippin' With a porcelain mannequin, slip nipple drippin' Climb through the room with walls of whipped cream Life in my brain is not what it seems Fell in a bowl of rubber sole Stole a red Renfrew window, Liverpool lingo Bizarre bandits suffer brain damage But underneath the mashed potatoes the kids hide the cabbage Fresh and brewed black just like a mother's pearl And like the song said, I'm "the youngest one in curls" Too much combustion gets my brain dusted Shadows of the pain sucking on a dead man's brain Too much combustion gets my brain dusted Shadows of the pain sucking on a young man's brain Too much combustion gets my brain dusted Shadows of the pain sucking on a dead man's brain Too much combustion gets my brain dusted Shadows of the pain sucking on a young man's brain Pros suppose who knows they flows I'm counting crows with froze toes, wind blows afros Mine's eleven tall and wide So won't you crawl inside? Electric glide and blue with something in the way she moves My style's a front row canyon Dunking on suckers just like Ed O'Bannon I'll stop the world and melt with your mother Got a cat in the cooler, ask Crispin Glover The Guns of Brixton, don't you come steppin' First you see me come, and then I see you jettin' You say you're MC This, a maverick with the skills you bring I am the lizard king, man, I can do anything Beyond the valley of the dead, I do the somersault Like Charlie Bucket when I saw him with Veruca Salt So I say "ooh ooh ooh" like a sweat cog, blood on the streets And I'm just sittin' 'round, sucking on a dead dog Too much combustion gets my brain dusted Shadows of the pain sucking on a dead man's brain Too much combustion gets my brain dusted Shadows of the pain sucking on a young man's brain Too much combustion gets my brain dusted Shadows of the pain sucking on a young man's brain Too much combustion gets my brain dusted Shadows of the pain sucking on a dead man's brain
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Written by: Justin Warfield, Tim Simenon
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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"Braindead Lyrics." Lyrics.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 13 May 2024. <https://www.lyrics.com/lyric-lf/12931857/Bomb+the+Bass/Braindead>.
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