Lyrics:
'96
'94, Big Gipp, Goodie Mo, OutKast, a vision from the past
Hootie Hoo, my White Owls are burning kind of slow
Nigga, you need to git up, git out
a curse
Jointed together, a blessed sight
Bonded by the cosmic fight
Our cosmic fight is over and inspired
But now we are impossibly tired
We didn't
And niggas don't be tripping, don't
Be doin no drive-bys
Cause we don't gangbang, don't wear blue or red
We like that fucking green and paper's what I said
Big
And niggas don't be tripping, don't
Be doin no drive-bys
Cause we don't gangbang, don't wear blue or red
We like that fucking green and paper's what I said
Big
I've read it all, it's black and white
The spectrum made a shade I like
The crimson rays are ruby bright
Technicolor light
Red! I want red
I've read it all, it's black and white
The spectrum made a shade I like.
The crimson rays are ruby bright
Technicolor light.
Red! I want red
(Ahahahaha, wow)
Wow, another fucking war
I am not even surprised anymore by the state of affairs
I feel like nobody cares that there are people
the red woman red with the broken wooden leg
and there are many red dresses lying on my little bed
and the oven is hot so come and warm yourself up
by
go
Under a red sky
Capture that burning light
Tempted by fortunes
Rapture awaits its call
Scarlet expansions
Shadows begin to fall
One final warning
condemns the whole of drones to such a malicious fate
The burning of the 48 has come about by the seduction of the proud with power
For drones they are
head
With all the shit I go through
I doubt you'll understand
She goes back to bed
While her eyes are red
Cause I can't imagine
She goes back to bed
fucking die!
All the hurting and all the burning bridges
Ask me about the years gone by
If I care? I'll tell you why
No more hurting
No more burning
shit,
if you heard just what I said,
Turning these coffins into our bed,
Hard to believe they don't want us dead,
May be your boss, burning down
The snow is falling and the fire's burning, got all the stockings hung
The tree is empty waiting for old Saint Nick, come on Rudolph run
The kids are
On the horizon, the landscape's burning red.
Bushfire. Smoke in your eyes, smoke in your eyes.
If you feel something, that makes you warm all over,
are colder than Sweden
So Boy Better Know that it’s gun season
Don't think I'm wearing gloves for no reason
Kill Devilman and dump him in Neasden
My
you believe is what you are
A pair of dancing shoes
The soviets are the blues
The reds
Under your bed
Lying in the darkness
Dead ahead
Sometimes birds do sing in a deaf night,
Sometimes blood exiles by daylight.
Sometimes, when you lay in your bed
You want me – everything turns red.
Who is
will look very nice
Can I take it with me
Back to flat with me
Shrunken heads under the bed
The flies are humming
There's a red under the bed
Hotel
It was empty, cold and bare
But with the Rolling truck Stones thing just outside
Making our music there
A few red lights, a few old beds
We
way
Red lights, she knows what I'm here for
Headlights, look me in the eye
Red lights, are you looking for danger
White lights, drives me insane
for the wealthy
Are you strong enough?
Sought the skull in my hand
Rise and take your daily dose
Turning
Turning
Another cigarette is burning
Longing
I ride into your mind by surprise on phased lasers
cnd slice into your eyes like Bunuel with crazed razors
Cuz yes I am un chien andalous
global warming
By burning a national
Forest
And bitch slapping Al Gore
Til he malforms
And I get mo props yay
I'm destined to be hokage
Like I'm Naruto
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