Pc Keen - Lyrics - Zeitgeist - Levellers

Title: Pc Keen
Album: Zeitgeist
Artist: Levellers
Composer(s): Jonathan Sevink, Mark Chadwick, Jeremy Cunningham, Charles Heather

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Lyric:
There's nothing new in this sad story
The slaughter of innocence without glory
At the foot of your hill without warning
The center of operations they attack in the morning

You can lie like a lame before them
You can dance in the dawn, you can even ignore them
But with your skin on file, there's no escape
P.C. Keen's got the snap shots, he knows your face

And the press will declare that you're all mad and insane
And you'll be accused of not playing the game

You'll stand in the court and declare your bravery
For fighting all this that brings us all slavery
But they won't even see you, they won't even hear you
Because you are the truth so nothing can save you

And the southern intelligence unit will say
"Thanks to you P.C. Keen, you've saved the day"

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0f28f7932459dda79ea6feb6a1d46844

Story Of My Life - Lyrics - Story of My Life - Deana Carter

Title: Story Of My Life
Album: Story of My Life
Artist: Deana Carter
Composer(s): Deana Kay Carter

Lyric:
Story of my life, story of my life
Well, let's just say it's a fork and a knife
There's one thing on my mind, one thing all the time
I got to fill my mouth

Got no favorite meal, got no favorite meal
I say every meal is clean if it fills me up for real
My belly's big and it's just a start, my appetite's my heart

And when I had enough, I just throw up and laugh

But this time, this time, it's not a cow
Kind of personal, can't explain to you why
Now this time, this time, it's not a cow
Mr. PC, are you ready to bow?

Breakfast in bed, breakfast in bed
The bed's in the kitchen so it's easy to be fed
And when I'm fed, yes, when I'm fed, I go back to bed

Food and sleep-watch, food and sleep-watch
The thing should keep me from having too much
My belly is big and that's just a start, my appetite's my heart

Sometimes it feels that I could kill for desert

This time, this time, it's not a cow
It's kind of personal, can't explain to you why
No, this time, this time, it's not a cow
So Mr. PC, are you ready to bow?

The story of my life, a big fork and the sharpest knife
I guess this solid, solid, solid, solid, solid
Bridge leads me on to the nearest fridge

But when I had enough, I just throw up and laugh

So this time, this time, it's not a cow
It's kind of personal, can't explain to you why
No, this time, this time, it's not a cow
Mr. PC, are you ready to bow?

This time, this time, it's not a cow, not a cow
Now this time, this time, this time, this time, it's not a cow
Not a pig, sheep, chicken, moose, duck, snake, horse or a frog

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The Story Of My Life - Lyrics - Lozin' Must - Millencolin

Title: The Story Of My Life
Album: Lozin' Must
Artist: Millencolin
Composer(s): Deana Kay Carter

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Lyric:
Story of my life, story of my life
Well, let's just say it's a fork and a knife
There's one thing on my mind, one thing all the time
I got to fill my mouth

Got no favorite meal, got no favorite meal
I say every meal is clean if it fills me up for real
My belly's big and it's just a start, my appetite's my heart

And when I had enough, I just throw up and laugh

But this time, this time, it's not a cow
Kind of personal, can't explain to you why
Now this time, this time, it's not a cow
Mr. PC, are you ready to bow?

Breakfast in bed, breakfast in bed
The bed's in the kitchen so it's easy to be fed
And when I'm fed, yes, when I'm fed, I go back to bed

Food and sleep-watch, food and sleep-watch
The thing should keep me from having too much
My belly is big and that's just a start, my appetite's my heart

Sometimes it feels that I could kill for desert

This time, this time, it's not a cow
It's kind of personal, can't explain to you why
No, this time, this time, it's not a cow
So Mr. PC, are you ready to bow?

The story of my life, a big fork and the sharpest knife
I guess this solid, solid, solid, solid, solid
Bridge leads me on to the nearest fridge

But when I had enough, I just throw up and laugh

So this time, this time, it's not a cow
It's kind of personal, can't explain to you why
No, this time, this time, it's not a cow
Mr. PC, are you ready to bow?

This time, this time, it's not a cow, not a cow
Now this time, this time, this time, this time, it's not a cow
Not a pig, sheep, chicken, moose, duck, snake, horse or a frog

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ba17da0860e506a95016bc46f273efde

P.C. - Lyrics - Bracket

Title: P.C.
Artist: Bracket
Composer(s): Raymond Castro, Zachary Charlos, Martin Jr Gregori, Larry Jr Tinney

Lyric:
Some say it's wrong
But I don't know when
I'm unaware of things
I said then

Never watch my mouth
I wish I knew the things
That I'm not supposed to say
Because it changes every day

Don't wanna talk
I can't get my foot out
Look where you step
The little things count

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16aef5cce69b3f52c5ef7f71f67af570

Newtown - Lyrics - Slits

Title: Newtown
Artist: Slits
Composer(s): Viviane Katrin Albertine, Paloma Romero Mc Lardy, Tessa Pollitt, Ariane Forster

Lyric:
Newtown where everybody goes around sniffing televisena
Or taking footballina
Newtown
Newtown
Newtown
Newtown
Newtown

Gimme another fix
Gimme another fix
If not I'll go sick
If not I'll go sick
I'll be sick

Morning papers will bring you something flash
Make your bones shake and keep busy your mind
Newtown
Newtown
Newtown
Newtown
Newtown
Newtown

Gimme another fix
I, I, I need another fix
If not I'll go sick
If not I'll go sick
I'll be sick sick sick sick

Morning in the city, Mr. Simpson is a speedin' freak
Taking huncholyna or sniffing phoncallina
Newtown
Newtown
Newtown
Newtown
Newtown

Down town, drop down
Stick around, feeling down
Might be some coming out
Football colors all around
Dropping PC late at night
Waiting for a fight, fight

Newtown
Newtown where everybody goes around sniffing televisena
Or taking footballina
Newtown
Newtown
Newtown
Newtown
Newtown
Newtown

Gimme another fix
I, I, I need another fix
If not I'll go sick
If not I'll go sick
I'll be sick

Down town, drop down
Stick around, feeling down
Might be some coming out
(Newtown)
Football colors all around
Dropping PC late at night
Waiting for a fight, fight
(Newtown)

Newtown
Newtown
Newtown
Newtown

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affdbf16edefa3dc912b0b1a75a27034

Learn - Lyrics - Showtime - Dizzee Rascal

Title: Learn
Album: Showtime
Artist: Dizzee Rascal
Composer(s): T Rowe, Dylan Mills, Dizzee Rascal V Vardoen

Lyric:
Like, who the fuck are you?
Yeah, who the fuck are you?
Is it recordin' yer?

I come direct when I inject and I'm expecting your respect
I'm a baller, you've been checked
I'm the kind of kid you can't detect ya know
Out and about I put my elbow in your mouth

You're a fassy there's no doubt I bet my sword will make you shout
I'm intense, you best see sense I'll have you hangin' from a fence
Then I'll laugh at your expense and maybe chuck you 50 pence
Snitch you make me switch, you sound and look just like a bitch
Whether you're poor or whether you're rich I'll leave you lyin' in the ditch

'Cause I'm from ragged raggo rags, you wear raggo rags like me
I'm ahead boy, I ain't in tune rappin' raggo rapidly
We easily be the worst bust academics first
Batty crew MC's get academically reversed

I'm academicly perverse, academically perverted
Batty crew MC's get academically diverted
Some return, we clearly get burnt get hurt
Until they realize they should academically of blurted

You don't want the beef, you don't want the grime
You ain't got the guts, I ain't got the time
But you can come to the man and get jakked
Come to the man or get killed
Come to the man or get shot
Come to the man or get killed

We call it arms as, arms as, go and get your crew
If you can't back that arms ask, who the fuck are you
We call it arms as, arms as, go and get your firm
If they don't wanna listen then we better make them learn

Raised in the gutter I was told I should fight
I create and cause confusion from the left to the right
I'm sweet as a nut, I'm doin' alright, cosy and comfortable
Still I try and avoid the sergeant, P.C and the constable

Raised in the gutter I was told I should bop
I create and cause confusion from the bottom to the top
I'm doin' okay, I will honestly say this year I'm flyin' through
I could easily find myself in jail but I ain't tryin' to

I keep it clear in front, relax wid the pressure
I'm dirty, and I'm stank but ain't nobody fresher
My haters make inquiries, make it obvious they care
When it comes to my location they would love to be aware

But I could be in the man or could be overseas
Could well be definitely makin' peace
Could be live at Wembley, warmin' up for Jay-Z
Still I'm definitely certain that you can't see me

You don't want the beef, you don't want the grime
You ain't got the guts, I ain't got the time
But you can come to the man or get jakked
Come to the man or get killed
Come to the man or get shot
Come to the man or get killed

We call it arms as, arms as, go and get your crew
If you can't back that arms ask, who the fuck are you
We call it arms as, arms as, go and get your firm
If they don't wanna listen then you better make them learn

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Cowboy Dave - Lyrics - Happy Mondays

Title: Cowboy Dave
Artist: Happy Mondays
Composer(s): Paul Davies, Gary Whelan, Mark Day, Shaun Ryder, Paul Ryder

Lyric:
Tell me what you know about Cowboy Dave
Did he whistle on Brown?
Was his woman a sex slave?

Give me what you got on the holiday
You know the one where you went with the X's paid
You can lie down here for a good few days

Tell me what you know about a man's affliction
PC plod talk pure science fiction
Talk about the girl with the leather legs
Does she waddle like a duck with her big big love eggs?

Cake

Something that I can't fix
I can fix it just like this
There's nothing that can't be fixed
I can fix it just like this

Give me what you got on effin-stein
First square head leader of the street crime
Tell me what you know about rumble bumble
Did he roll our jeep in the middle of the jungle?
Bounce on his head did the nine lives rumble, rumble?

There's nothing that I can't fix
I can fix it just like this
Nothing that can't be fixed
I can fix it just like this

You, you, you, you and I, I, I, I
Back together again
This old world

You, you, you, you and I, I, I, I
Back together again
Same old world

There's nothing that can't be fixed
I can fix it just like this
There's not a thing that I can't fix
I can fix it just like this

Tell me what you know about Whistlin' Dave
Did he do his scene? Did he live in a sex cave?
Not an ounce of class in the aging brass
She did the work while he lay on the grass
I know nothing man, so sack that fast, faster, faster

There's nothing that I can't fix
I can fix it just like this
There's not a thing that can't be fixed
I can fix it just like this

You, you, you, you and I, I, I, I
Back together again
Same old world

You, you, you, you and I, I, I, I
Back together again
Same old world

Easy, easy, easy now, easy now

You, you, you, you and I, I, I, I
Back together again
Same old world

You, you, you, you and I, I, I, I
Back together again
This old world

Wunderbar, wunderbar, rumble man

You, you, you, you and I, I, I, I
Back together again
This old world

You, you, you, you and I, I, I, I
Back together again
Same old world

You, you, you, you and I, I, I, I
Back together again
This old world

You, you, you, you and I, I, I, I
Back together again
Same old world
...

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Hook - Lyrics - Four - Blues Traveler

Title: Hook
Album: Four
Artist: Blues Traveler
Composer(s): John Popper

Lyric:
It doesn't matter what I say
So long as I sing with inflection
That makes you feel that I'll convey
Some inner truth of vast reflection
But I've said nothing so far
And I can keep it up for as long as it takes
And it don't matter who you are
If I'm doin' my job, it's your resolve that breaks

Because the hook brings you back
I ain't tellin' you no lie
The hook brings you back
On that you can rely

There is something amiss, I am being insincere
In fact I don't mean any of this
Still my confession draws you near
To confuse the issue I refer
To familiar heroes from long ago
No matter how much Peter loved her
What made the Pan refuse to grow

Was that the hook brings you back?
I ain't tellin' you no lie
The hook brings you back, yeah
On that you can rely

Suck it in, suck it in, suck it in
If you're Rin Tin Tin or Anne Boleyn
Make a desperate move or else you'll win
And then begin to see
What you're doin' to me, this MTV is not for free
It's so P.C. it's killing me
So desperately I sing to thee of love
Sure but also rage and hate and pain and fear of self

And I can't keep these feelings on the shelf
I've tried well no, in fact I lied
Could be financial suicide but I've got
Too much pride inside to hide or slide
I'll do as I'll decide and let it ride until' I've died
And only then shall I abide this tide
Of catchy little tunes of hip three minute ditties
I wanna bust all your balloons, I wanna burn all of your cities

To the ground I've found
I will not mess around
Unless I play then hey
I will go on all day hear what I say
I have a prayer to pray
That's really all this was
And when I'm feelin' stuck and need a buck
I don't rely on lunch

Because the hook brings you back
I ain't tellin' you no lie
The hook ohh
On that you can rely

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26759b769cf1237f8e19d219b02ed785

I Got This In A Smash - Lyrics - Represent - Fat Joe

Title: I Got This In A Smash
Album: Represent
Artist: Fat Joe
Composer(s): Joseph Anthony Cartagena, Joseph L Kirkland

Lyric:
Yeah, it's time to let 'em know how I got this here
Fat Joe Da Gangsta, got this in a smash, know what I'm saying?
Showbiz, Diamond D, check this out
Aww, one to the head, I don't give a fuck
Suckers better duck, buck, buck, buck, buck

I let off mad shots
You get dragged when you face the big shot
Yeah and the Bronx is my territory
Suckers getting sprayed, end of story

Whether one deep or with my crew
I pack a .45, my girl packs a .22
Huh, so you know I'm all right
If niggas want beef, then I give 'em a hell of a fight

Yeah, I'm quick to blow a nigga out the frame
I'm insane, pushing punks in front of a train
'Cause I don't have it up to here
Talking about skins, I have more than Richard Gere

Yeah, 'cause I got it like that
It ain't hard to tell that Joe is living fat
How I last and surpass any nigga who shows his ass
Is gonna end up getting blast

Run for jewels and give me the cash
Everybody knows I got this in a smash
Yeah, you know I got this in a smash
(So what's up, what's up?)

Run for jewels and give me the cash
Everybody knows I got this in a smash
Yeah, you know I got this in a smash
(So what's up, what's up?)

Run for jewels and give me the cash
Everybody knows I got this in a smash
Yeah, you know I got this in a smash
(So what's up, what's up?)

Run for jewels and give me the cash
Everybody knows I got this in a smash
Yeah, you know I got this in a smash
(So what's up, what's up?)

Aw shit, another brother hit
This time it's Tone, life is a fucking bitch
It really hurts when the shit hits home
Early in the morning, they calling me on the phone

Telling me my man caught eight to the chest
Nah, this couldn't be, Tone always wore a vest
But that's the way the story goes
Today you're here, and tomorrow who knows?

Man, I'm gonna miss him, I love him to death
Charlie's in jail and I'm the only brother left
It's time to get strong, forget about the sorrow
But like Ike said, no one is promised tomorrow

Fuck the bullshitting, it's time to get cash
Don't fuck with me cause I got this in a smash
Yeah, you know I got this in a smash
(So what's up, what's up?)

Run for jewels and give me the cash
Everybody knows I got this in a smash
Yeah, you know I got this in a smash
(So what's up, what's up?)

Run for jewels and give me the cash
Everybody knows I got this in a smash
Yeah, you know I got this in a smash
(So what's up, what's up?)

Run for jewels and give me the cash
Everybody knows I got this in a smash
Yeah, you know I got this in a smash
(So what's up, what's up?)

Run for jewels and give me the cash
Everybody knows I got this in a smash
Yeah, you know I got this in a smash
(So what's up, what's up?)

Run for jewels and give me the cash
Everybody knows I got this in a smash
Yeah, you know I got this in a smash
(So what's up, what's up?)

Well, it's the F A T, Gang S T E R
Living like a star, drive a fat car
525 and I'm crazy live
Not all the loot in the world could make me take a dive

Fucking mad bitches on the first date
Straight to the telly, hit the skins, I gotta skate
See, I got no time for a stunt
Because a 40 and a blunt, that's all she really wants

Yeah, so dough keeps collecting PC
Knocking out punks with my man Diamond D
Cause everybody knows I'm the man
And if you fuck with me, then shit'll hit the fan

I took mad flicks since '76
Robbing every other brother for their motherfucking kicks
I once heard a kid say he's his brother's keeper
His brother turned around and bust him with a street sweeper

Everybody wants the cash
But don't fuck with me 'cause I got this in a smash
Yeah, you know I got this in a smash
(So what's up, what's up?)

Everybody wants the cash
But don't fuck with me 'cause I got this in a smash
Yeah, you know I got this in a smash
(So what's up, what's up?)

Everybody wants the cash
But don't fuck with me 'cause I got this in a smash
Yeah, you know I got this in a smash
(So what's up, what's up?)

Everybody wants the cash
But don't fuck with me 'cause I got this in a smash
Yeah, you know I got this in a smash
(So what's up, what's up?)

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2f3ba3ef8329048edca77be1b66adce7

Sun Won'T Come Out - Lyrics - Pete Rock And Cl Smooth

Title: Sun Won'T Come Out
Artist: Pete Rock And Cl Smooth
Composer(s): Harvey Scales, Corey Penn, Peter Phillips

Lyric:
Open, Sesame, steppin' through the mist, it's the specialist
Comin' to box and flooded with rocks
We'll get down for mine, the kind that makes cement feel us
Standin' in the company of killers

Follow my trail as I walk through the valley of death
Left, to fear no evil, 'cause what I grip is legal
I'm hot like yard, the point guard of this group, on the loop
Never your right, raising all your game type tonight

Entering the level of high gear
You'd think it took a Bob Marley spliff to get here
Front to rear God of the drugs that you're hearin'
While my neighbors say we need to be jailed for rackateerin'

Now appearin', Pete Rock and CL Smooth, to the jugular
Now you got Mecca and the Soul Brother
Slightly, you might raise a hair of doubt
But if we don't rock the spot, 'The Sun Won't Come Out'

Check it out, without Pete Rock and CL Smooth
Without, 'Anger in the Nation'
Yo, without 'Mecca and the Soul Brother'
You know, 'The Sun Won't Come Out'

Without Pete Rock and CL Smooth
You know we can't, 'Reminisce'
If we don't, 'Straighten It Out'
You know, 'The Sun Won't Come Out'

Un-chained heat, I hustle on the street or beat
To keep you on the edge of your seat, you consumer
A QB-like boomer, the ultimate team
But if I wake up in another woman's bed, I'ma scream

I'm settin' up shop pop to overthrow Castro
Chokin' over Noriega's Garcia Vegas
Guess who supplies the pies and dope triples
Now she leaks ass cheeks, pearly whites and titty nipples

Would CL ever trick loot on PC?
Even if I never had sonny boy I disagree
Cut the small talk, I give more marks
Than a school of sharks on attack
So keep your ass back

When it's wack you get a thumbs down
Another record deal wasted, listen man
Find another occupation man, here's the persuasion
Blazin' one amazin route that's all about
'The Sun Won't Come Out'

Yo, so check it out, with Pete Rock and CL Smooth
You gotta, 'Act Like You Know'
'If It Ain't Rough, It Ain't Right' kid
You know, 'The Sun Won't Come Out'

Without Pete Rock and CL Smooth
You can't, 'Reminisce' to 'T.R.O.Y.'
If we don't, 'Straighten It Out'
You know, 'The Sun Won't Come Out'

I rule chicks off acoustics, watchin' the Knicks
We up ten, but need to stop shootin' bricks
Put the jailhouse funk in under stars
Till the lines on my looseleaf, look like some metal bars

My forecast hits a megablast and what I invent
A pack of bloodhounds could never get the scent
Payin' off the beast now my bills increase
If there's a five dollar rock sold in the park, I want a piece

'The Sun Won't Come Out', unless the crowd start this
'Cause if it was my choice, you all dance in darkness
'Cause any verse rips a total eclipse for sun rays
Anyways was the phrase back in my younger days

Now the God displays the attribute, dealin' with heat
From the basement, enterin' the streets you meet
Pete Rock and CL Smooth and when you see what it's about
You know, 'The Sun Came Out', now pass my shades

Yo, without Pete Rock and CL Smooth
Without, 'Anger in the Nation'
Yo, without, 'Mecca and the Soul Brother'
You know, 'The Sun Won't Come Out'

Without Pete Rock and CL Smooth
You gotta, 'Act Like You Know'
'If It Ain't Rough It Ain't Right' kid
You know, 'The Sun Won't Come Out'

Without Pete Rock and CL Smooth
We can't, 'Reminisce'
Yo, if we don't, 'Straighten It Out'
You know, 'The Sun Won't Come Out'

Without Pete Rock and CL Smooth
Without, 'Ghettos of the Mind'
If you know what I'm talkin' about
You know, 'The Sun Won't Come Out', so check it

One two, Pete Rock and CL Smooth for ninety-four
Breakin' you off somethin' proper
So check it, peace y'all

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73-C - Lyrics - Coalesce

Title: 73-C
Artist: Coalesce
Composer(s): James Dewees, Stacy Hilt, Sean Ingram, Jes Steineger

Lyric:
Rape this identity for you canvas
Hatred and misconception, your mediums
You paint credibility away
Mark I may, but stained, I'm not

In a rage of green venom is spat
To uphold what order?
P.C. mentality, come belittle me
The only barrier to compassion, the one that you uphold

Politics on a kindergarten level
Expression has no place here indignities
I have no grasp on this, what wasn't said
If we blind our eyes the blood still runs red

We possess nothing other than a lust for peace
So now we are liable to learn from history
With human factor, learn we must fear revolution
Violence, our most basic function

Why should we hide from instinct if there is pain to end?
Self-proclaimed lovers
Would they condemn us the same?
What wasn't said

If we deafen our ears, the screams still echo on
If there is such a thing as content in apathy, then this you have achieved
Desensitized consumers, veto these dollar votes
Fear is no excuse, not anymore

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aa4cee5e4ea66189103dd5c9c102a2fb

Here Comes That Man Again - Lyrics - Kirsty Maccoll

Title: Here Comes That Man Again
Artist: Kirsty Maccoll
Composer(s): Peter Wilfred Glenister, Kirsty Maccoll

{AdsenseCode:2D080010-7055-443A-8D12-2B79DDC71256}

Lyric:
Here comes that man again
It's always ?round midnight
That Amsterdam creeps into my PC
After a long hard day selling pornography
He likes to come home and talk to me

He's got his mind on the job but
His technological props
Oops, another file on the email
And though I'm scared to click open
I just can't help having a look

Oh, here comes that man again
A car crash in my psyche
My curiosity's driving me
Yes, here he comes again
Who'd have thought I'd have as much fun
With an anonymous Dutchman?

I never knew I had it in me
He says the camera is on and
Can I see him yet?
I say, "Babe you look like a ghost
And sound like a Dalek to me"
So let's go back to the written word
Even though we both know it's absurd

Here comes that man again
Here comes that man again
Here comes that man again

Here comes that man again
He knows that I'm online
"Knock knock, who's there?"
It's just a matter of time
Here comes millennium man
Rum and coke in one hand
And in the other
Is that a mouse a see?

Although when I tell him he's corny
It seems to make him quite horny
And through the cyberspace
I watch the rapture on his face
Yes, while his girlfriend is sleeping
His sexuality's peeking

Here comes that man again
After a long hard day
He likes to come home and talk to me
He says it's something he needs
He can't stop spilling the seeds
God bless European unity
And all those who never sleep

Sha la la la la, get your rocks off, baby
Sha la la la la, get your rocks off, baby
Sha la la la la, get your rocks off
Another stain on another blue dress

Sha la la la la, get your rocks off, baby
Sha la la la la, get your rocks off, baby
Sha la la la la, get your rocks off
Yes, yes

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fe0774737bb26a4fb821d622bde76907

Operation Eagle Lie - Lyrics - Asian Dub Foundation

Title: Operation Eagle Lie
Artist: Asian Dub Foundation
Composer(s): Steven Savale, Sanjay Tailor, Amiruddah Das, Saidullah Zaman, John Pandit

Lyric:
Lies, damn lies and statistics
Fitting up and stitching up
Down at ballistics

The back of the van
It ain't used for seating
Just check through the window
The youth, them get a beating

Meet PC PR the designer policeman
Putting up a smokescreen with his multicolored truncheon
Shake a few bad apples off the long arm of the law
But he knows and we know that it's rotten to the core
He knows and we know that it's rotten to the core
Rotten to the core

Black man on a double yellow
Yeah, he's a criminal, a racial attack
Investigation minimal
You'll always find us on the end of a baton
When the black meets the blue
You know who's getting spat on

Now I'm giving to you and I am driving into you
The truth, no number crunching
It's just your mind that were mugging

ADF, taking them on at I-spy
Watching them, watching us
Operation eagle lie
Watching them, watching us
Operation eagle lie

Unity is strength and strength is unity
IC1, IC2 and also IC3
Altogether we can defend all of the community
One people, all nations, fi reach their destiny

Before the Devil man used to use the truncheon
Kill the black man is still his dream ambition
Now they have swat batons and CCTV
For unusual people just like you and me

Young sisters and brothers dying from heart attacks
But how can we breathe when the beast is on our back
CS gas in your lungs, eyes and your mouth
Just another police murder, [Incomprehensible]

CPS is the piggy's alibi
None of them are ever prepared to be the fall guy
ADF, taking them on at I-spy
Watching them, watching us
Operation eagle lie

Now I'm giving to you and I am driving into you
The truth, no number crunching
It's just your mind that were mugging

ADF, taking them on at I-spy
Watching them, watching us
Operation eagle lie

[Incomprehensible]

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24ac3786bb2722b90525cdb5c6c69975

The Anti-Song - Lyrics - Showoff

Title: The Anti-Song
Artist: Showoff
Composer(s): Christopher W. Messer

Lyric:
These guys can't be punk-rock
They sing about love and Brendan says they're not
But they've got egos this big
I bet that their mothers got them this gig

Because this is the anti-song
Everybody sing along, this is the anti-song
How could I ever be wrong?

Those guys aren't like me
I hate that band because they're not PC
But they won't get too far
And if they do, I'll say that they stole my guitar

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677a43a4c1e4e3e0134efd482e87b00c

Blackout - Lyrics - Flesh Of My Flesh, Blood Of My Blood - Dmx

Title: Blackout
Album: Flesh Of My Flesh, Blood Of My Blood
Artist: Dmx
Composer(s): David Styles, Jayson Phillips, Earl Simmons, Shawn Carter, Kasseem Dean, Sean Jacobs

Lyric:
Jay! Fuck that, this is it right here baby!
You know what it is

Yo, I used to have bad luck, now you might see me in a Jag truck
Mad stuck, either with a dime or a bad duck
Double-R T with the matchin' bandanna
38-snub blue steel with no hammer

And I see y'all niggaz tryin' to glance at the 'Kiss
'Cause I walk around with your whole advance on my wrist
Phonin' your women, drunk off Corona's and lemon
And you know I'm still writin' the mean, lightin' the green

I need to boogie, even though I look, right in the beam
Judge find out it's my team, he boost they bails
Niggaz throw us on they album, try to boost they sales
We put our pies on the table and our eyes on a label

'Cause them rednecks up in the mountains'll try to slay you
They call me Raspy, tell you what I want you to know
Fuck what you ask me, you probably don't, want me to blow
I got a lot of horsepower so I'm able to skip

Usually a good nigga, even though I'm able to flip
You pay 30 for the 'Kiss, a 100 for The L.O.X.
And if we cool, then I write a hook for a drop
Whatever's in the bank is my bet, a Z-bull's my pet
And you can bet he'll get the legs and the neck

Aiyyo, yo when my gun bust, send niggaz to the fish like Swanson
New York's youngest Bumpy Johnson, I put fear in y'all heads
Sheik Luc', type of nigga gasoline y'all beds
And that's warnin', if you all alive in the mornin', that's fine
Now I suggest you hit the block and get what's rightfully mine

I want PC, see me? Tuck in your chains
I got niggaz my pop's age that lifestyle ain't changed
It's like wake up, move a brick, half of it slow
Make car money, check with Sheik, go fuck with a hoe

I rock a waist length mink, do-rag under my fitted
And I don't even want waves, Timbs be halfway new
That's Sheik in the dress-up club 'cause I don't fuck with shoes
And for my nigga's life, I swear to the Bible, let it be told

I put thirty in your head, all in the same hole
'Cause we got the same goal, and you try an' tamper with mine?
Don't make me motherfuckin' leave you with some shit in your spine
Fuck with me you be a was nigga, nigga was dope
Nigga was gettin' money 'fore I extorted your coke, 'ju crazy?

Aiyyo, catch me with a thirty-eight, box and shells
In a ninety-eight Lincoln eatin' pasta shells
Order to go, always got a box of L's
Blow, stay on the low, get a Heine' and swig

I'm Pinero, so I hate a snake, rat, or a pig
I pop shit 'cause I'm the second best, the first was B.I.G.
Y'all niggaz is son-ned out, let me speak to your father
'Cause I like to play chess and I swing the revolver

If I don't like a nigga, I don't even be bothered
I spit, I'm just a crooked nigga goin' legit
You hold your nine if you holdin' a brick
Common sense, Fed drama, you hit the Bahamas, get bent

L.O.X. get respect like Sonny from 'Bronx Tale'
Us and DMX, the Ruff Ryder cartel
Thirsty to live, are y'all niggaz eager to die?
I tell all my niggaz ride, you won't leave with a dime, motherfucker

I'm a monster, I sleep whole winters, wake up and spit summers
Ghetto nigga, puttin' up Will Smith numbers
Surrounded by 6's and Hummers, bitches among us
Tryin' not to let this bullshit become us

It started from hunger, till it all went insane
Now bitches notice the chains now that I hit my number
The chickens I twisted see the digits unlisted
The beeper done changed, you dead bitch, the Reaper done came

I suggest niggaz stop speakin' my name
'Cause trust me, y'all can still feel the heat in the rain
I keep creepin', streets keep watchin', I keep poppin'
Niggaz is hot heads and the bullets is heat-seekin'

Jay flow for pesos, chase hoes not
I just circle 'round the block in a drop
Tell them jump through the top
Where the sun roof used to be, I could see y'all not used to me

Nigga flows like none other, I'm the meanest
Toughest Don Dada, the gun butcher
You the type that bust a lot of shots and none touch ya
I'm the type that get excited, when the gun touch ya motherfuckers
Y'all niggaz 'bout to witness a dynasty like no other

I'm headed nowhere fast run in the place, gat in my waist
Niggaz wanted a taste, but wouldn't come to my face
So what that mean? You cats is playin' games again
So now what I do? Start namin' names again, what?

All you motherfuckers know, that I speak from the heart
Play like you don't know, L.O.X. is gon' bark
We can take it there, but to make it fair, get some more niggaz
Styles, Sheik, Jay, we comin' with like four niggaz, aight

Y'all niggaz, best to stop playin', it'll be the ones you forgotten about
That'll get you shot in your mouth, got my dogs covered
Plus it's all gravy like chicken when it's smothered, what?
'It's Dark,' and I love it, get him boy, let him loose, c'mon
You want it with the dog? Get a gun, let him shoot, c'mon

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c61b09d95a7348de58e38210f4fb1179

Brighton Rock - Lyrics - Elastica

Title: Brighton Rock
Artist: Elastica
Composer(s): Justine Frischmann

Lyric:
We were sauced right there on Brighton Beach
You a goth and I was such a peach
I sought to be the best at it
P C Plod he still arrested it

We're getting over it
We're sweating over it
That makes you happy
I'm happy too

You're game in spite of everything
Page theme and then she'll be some things
Your name carved on my Brighton Rock
My name can be your mental block

We're getting over it
We're sweating over it
That makes you happy
I'm happy too

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8d55a3bac9de4d5d6e9345075bd31cc2

Maxwell'S Silver Hammer - Lyrics - Abbey Road - Beatles

Title: Maxwell'S Silver Hammer
Album: Abbey Road
Artist: Beatles
Composer(s): John Winston Lennon, Paul James Mccartney

Lyric:
Joan was quizzical, studied pataphysical
Science in the home
Late nights all alone with her test tube
Oh, oh oh oh

Maxwell Edison, majoring in medicine
Calls her on the phone
"Can I take you out to the pictures Joan?"
But as she's getting ready to go
A knock comes on the door

Bang! Bang! Maxwell's silver hammer
Came down upon her head
Clang! Clang! Maxwell's silver hammer
Made sure that she was dead

Back in school again Maxwell plays the fool again
Teacher gets annoyed
Wishing to avoid an unpleasant scene

She tells Max to stay when the class has gone away
So he waits behind
Writing fifty times, "I must not be so?
But when she turns her back on the boy
He creeps up from behind

Bang! Bang! Maxwell's silver hammer
Came down upon her head
Bang! Bang! Maxwell's silver hammer
Made sure that she was dead

P.C. Thirty One said, "We caught a dirty one"
Maxwell stands alone
Painting testimonial pictures
Oh, oh oh oh

Rose and Valerie screaming from the gallery
Say he must go free
The judge does not agree, and he tells them so
But as the words are leaving his lips
A noise comes from behind

Bang! Bang! Maxwell's silver hammer
Came down upon his head
Clang! Clang! Maxwell's silver hammer
Made sure that he was dead

Silver hammer man!

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b7e6b346d0ce82c421d9140b26f757d6

Face For Radio - Lyrics - Hats Off to the Buskers - View

Title: Face For Radio
Album: Hats Off to the Buskers
Artist: View
Composer(s): Kyle Falconer, Kieren Webster

Lyric:
You have a face for the radio
But I know you'd like to see it in a show
Claiming to be the next best everything
Which way will you go?

You're a little smarter than most of us
You run so fast, sometimes it's hard to see you for dust
Finding some time for you, it tortures me
Which way will you go?

Wages on a Friday spent on Saturday
Lend me a fiver, won't do that again
Oh, your trust is not too strong

Your arrogance in a bag won't spare you a fag
Superstar wannabe says it comes naturally
Cemented in your own feeble way

He watches 'Trainspotting' fifteen times a week
Thinking it's making him, oh, so unique
PC on summer night and football in the rain
Doesn't matter how far he is, he has always money for the train
Which way will you go?

There's nothing against you, love in my heart
You're really a nice guy, I've known it from the start
Your conscience is eager to know where you lie
Pushing your limits, give it up and remember you can cry

Remember you can cry
And I know and I know and I know
That you can cry

Wages on a Friday spent on Saturday
Lend me a tenner, won't do that again
Oh, your trust is not too strong

Your arrogance in a bag won't spare you a fag
Superstar wannabe says it comes naturally
Cemented in your own feeble way

You have a face for the radio
But I know you'd like to see it in a show

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8a8e53de6dabcc58de0bc43fa2460c3d

1st And 10 (Incognegro Album) - Lyrics - Incognegro - Ludacris

Title: 1st And 10 (Incognegro Album)
Album: Incognegro
Artist: Ludacris
Composer(s): Arbie Wilson, Michael Richard Bull, Christopher Bridges, Shondrae Crawford, Jean Paul Maunick, Bobbie Sandmanie

{AdsenseCode:2D080010-7055-443A-8D12-2B79DDC71256}

Lyric:
Click, click, click, click
Yeah, click, click
DTP nigga

I started with ten mack tens, ten clips and ten pens
Got ten times richer in the span of ten years
Bitch I'm ten times two on a scale of one to ten
I'll battle ten crews with the strength of ten men

At nine, I was into crime, sex, and drugs
Pushin' an '89 Box Chevy sittin' on dubs
Nine thugs all ski masks, black suited with gloves
Break the imprinted chest with at least nine slugs

Man I ate eight clips with eight chicks watching eight flicks
You's 8-6 if you ate pussy with fake lips
I figure eight when my mind goes in circles
Did I Do That or was it Mystikal and Urkel?

On to seven AK-47, so what?
I got seven hoes stoppin' by at seven to fuck
Then put seven in your chest seven days a week
And add a foot for good measure you'll be seven feet deep

It goes 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4
3, 2 murder, 1 lyrics at your door
These DTP niggas come ready for war
So don't start the fucking game if you won't settle the score

I got six hoes distributing on six blocks
It's blistering from cops tryna stop these rocks from distributing
Six gun shots left, one pint of Vodka before this pimp will hit
It's street justice, now it's six hole in your casket

Give me a high five and I'll put that nine lower than your esophagus
Then smack you so hard that you have to come with 2Pacalypse
Five stars, twenty rims, five cars
I'd add more but I had to subtract one from five bars

I got four forty-fours on a rip on the floor
For you niggas talkin' shit, I'm finish, so you what for
I did four months in the bing instead of a Hearst
Now it's DTP for life, dog for better or worse

I fuck three best friends, ran on all three the same game
In these streets I'm a murderer, I got three alias names
I'm three times insane, three shots will cave your brain
On three fire and ready, cock back and aim

It goes 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4
3, 2 murder, 1 lyrics at your door
These DTP niggas come ready for war
So don't start the fucking game if you won't settle the score

I'm packing two twenty-twos and twice the ammunition
But at Friday the 13th, what's up now superstition?
I'm a two timer with a couple of twins, double jeopardy
With a pair of two deuces in the two seater Benz

I got one motto get dough till your gone
I got one main lady the rest of y'all is hoes
I'm Numero Uno with one more before I go
If you think I ain't the one bitch you too slow

And all you zero ass niggas ain't nothin' to me
Because I chop up O's, move dro', and chop keys
0-6 is my clique along with PC
Pretty Rick, Calil, V-Slim and Shondrez

It goes 1 to 10 and 10 to 1
Ludacris, Fake Feeze and that nigga I-Twain
It goes 1 to 10 and 10 to 1
Ludacris, Fake Feeze and that nigga I-Twain

It goes 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4
3, 2 murder, 1 lyrics at your door
These DTP niggas come ready for war
So don't start the fucking game if you won't settle the score

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b8aadf50d7f39abaf13c563779b06b01

Tales Of A Hustler Pt.2 - Lyrics - The B.Coming - Beanie Sigel

Title: Tales Of A Hustler Pt.2
Album: The B.Coming
Artist: Beanie Sigel
Composer(s): Kenneth William Johnson, Klaus Doldinger, A Lewis, Dwight Grant, Umar Alwan

Lyric:
Court casin', third felony facin'
No probation, my heart racin' like a blunt lacin'
Hennessey and malt liquor chasin'
My gem star scarrin' niggaz faces

For a pound of trey eight and
I throw bullets like Dallas Troy Aikman
The callous on my index stay achin'
Niggaz stay hatin', got me late night pacin'

I'm tight boot lacin', mask on like I'm Jason
Shoot up shit like Larry Davis
You play the pulpit like Pastor Mason
Turn cheek like Martin Luther

I'm like Oswald sharp-shootin'
Got my eyes on my mark in the dark shootin'
Beam illuminate the target movin'
Get your organs ruined, move out like SWAT move in

Got them niggaz on the back-block rootin'
For the bad guy, playground legend like Sadait
P. Kirkland, my MP state workin', shootin' arm stay jerkin'
My Nextel stay chripin', can't answer 'cause the feds lurkin'

Its like we catchin' cancer on purpose
Back to back chain smoking, nicotine feinin'
Conversation with demons when I'm dreamin', manic depressive
Like the man upstairs tryin' to pass me a lesson, but I can't catch it
The game under break the pressure, they miss my presence

We still not promised tomorrow, takin' the bitter with the sweet
Up in these cold ass streets, we got lifestyles through our scars
We ride hard til our numbers get called, the lifestyle of a hustler

We still not promised tomorrow, takin' the bitter with the sweet
Up in these cold ass streets, we got lifestyles through our scars
We ride hard til our numbers get called, the lifestyle of a hustler

I'm feelin' like deaths in the air
Got me back to back buckin' my squares
But I ain't bitchin', I ain't scared
I ain't budgin', in fact the thrill alone turns me on

Got me smiling, laughin', clutchin'
My toast and confrontin' mother fuckers
Cockaroaches will not catch me laughin'
Skinny and slim fram y'all get it the same

Cool niggaz that'll spin out they waves
Grimey niggaz that'll spin to they graves
Justifyin' my foul ways, I got kids to raise
But motherfuckers rather see me sprayed, than to see me pair fucker

Or see me on the front page like Sig
Or stay rolled DC with B. Sig
You bitch niggaz stay PC when y'all see me
Until the day that they fit me in the grave
And the city wreak of me, we got the city under siege
S P or R O C

Poverty is a movie starrin' me
Ride with no play the passenger seat
So y'all can see how my life so real
So y'all can see how my life so ill

We still not promised tomorrow, takin' the bitter with the sweet
Up in these cold ass streets, we got lifestyles through our scars
We ride hard til our numbers get called, the lifestyle of a hustler

We still not promised tomorrow, takin' the bitter with the sweet
Up in these cold ass streets, we got lifestyles through our scars
We ride hard til our numbers get called, the lifestyle of a hustler

Tales of a hustler that's me in the flesh
Got a Jag and a Caddy sellin' dimes of the step
Niggaz wanna take my block I had to earn my respect
So, I put his cerebellum on his grandma's steps

You know Oschino he'll probably kill
Got the soul of Huey Newton nigga Bobby Seale
Nigga prolly take the stand he'll prolly squeal
But I got four lawyers, I ain't takin' the deal nigga

We could strap without scrap or put the semi in it
Gun fully loaded like the Chrysler with the Henny in it
I keep it ghetto like a 40 with the Henny in it
Went to school broke loafers on no pennies in it

Stood the coldest winter with the bummest coat
Need food need shoes sold dummies of soap
Got tired of being broke man life was a bitch
They bring you flowers when you head but no soup while you sick

So I switched my whole picture get involved with the bricks
Not the ones made of semen but the ones who sniffs
Tales of hustler, niggaz come for your jugular
If you sell one bag to they mother fuckin' customers

State P we got the city on smash
Got every boulevard every street every ave
Got sneakers got clothes nigga you do the math
Push to hustle but the point is just to stack that cash
Tales of a hustler

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2f59e061bb533bc44a441debfaa4ad64