We Are The Vegetables - Lyrics - INXSive - Inxs

Title: We Are The Vegetables
Album: INXSive
Artist: Inxs
Composer(s): A Farriss, T Farriss, G Beers, J Farriss, M Hutchence, K Pengilly

Lyric:
Well, I've got this feeling in the back of my head
I feel like making someone's face turn red
I'm learning bike's and ditto vices
Try to look bored and going places

We are the vegetables
We are the vegetables
We are the vegetables
We are the vegetables

Some music is playing by metal gazers
It's gone through the stage where everyone makes it
Do you think that we're not good
All I really know is I think you should

We are the vegetables
We are the vegetables
We are the vegetables
We are the vegetables, oh

Well, I've got this feeling in the back of my head
I feel like making someone's face turn red
I'm learning bikes and ditto vices
Try to look bored and going places

We are the vegetables
We are the vegetables
We are the vegetables
We are the, we are the
We are the vegetables

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60b52f322b6efd5144e7d1685ec4b615

Vegetables - Lyrics - Beach Boys

Title: Vegetables
Artist: Beach Boys
Composer(s): Brian Wilson, Van Dyke Park

Lyric:
I'm gonna be round my vegetables
I'm gonna chow down my vegetables
I love you most of all
My favorite vegetable

If you brought a big brown bag of them home
I'd jump up and down and hope you'd toss me a carrot

I'm gonna keep well my vegetables
Cart off and sell my vegetables
I love you most of all
My favorite vegetable
Oh oh, taba vega vegel

I tried to kick the ball but my tenny flew right off
I'm red as a beet 'cause I'm so embarrassed

I know that you'll feel better
When you send us in your letter
And tell us the name of your
Your favorite vegetable

I know that you'll feel better
When you send us in your letter
And tell us the name of your
Your favorite vegetable

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2816a3991ae9340159b67d3250662953

Green Eyes - Lyrics - Mama's Gun - Erykah Badu

Title: Green Eyes
Album: Mama's Gun
Artist: Erykah Badu
Composer(s): Victor E. Cooke, Erica Wright, James Jason Poyser

Lyric:
My eyes are green
Cause I eat a lot of vegetables
It don't have nothing to do with your new friend
My eyes are green
Cause I eat a lot of vegetables
It don't have nothing to do with your new friend

I don't care, I swear
I'm too thru with you I am
You don't mean nothing to me
So go ahead and be with your friend

My eyes are green
Cause I eat a lot of vegetables
It don't have nothing to do with your new friend
My eyes are green
Cause I eat a lot of vegetables
It don't have nothing to do with your new friend

I'm insecure
But I can't help it
My mind says move on
My heart let right
But I don't love you any more
I'm so insecure
Never knew that love did this
Ooh, ooh

I can't remember the last time I felt this way
About somebody
You've done something to my mind
And I can't control it
But I don't love you any more
Yes I do, I do
Loving you is wrong baby
Ooh, ooh

La-di-da
Dum-dee-da-da
Dum-didi-da-da-da
Dum-didi-da-dum-di

I'm so confused
You tried to trick me yeah
Ooh, ooh, oh
Never knew that love could hurt like this
Never thought I would but I got dissed
Makes me feel so sad and hurt inside
Feel embarrased so I want to hide
Silly me I thought your love was true
Change my name to Silly E. Badu
Before I heal, it's gonna be a while
I know it's gonna be a while, chile

I hope it's not too late
Too late, too late, too late
Feeling insecure
Your love has got me sore
I don't want no more

Oh, oh
It's too late, oh, oh ooh, ooh
I'm sorry I love you
At first when you was cool
You told me you loved me too, ooh
And then you lost your love
And then you lost your love
And then you lost your love
You wanted me to go away
But I can't go
See I can't leave, it's too late
I can't leave, it's too late
I can't leave, it's too late
I can't leave, it's too late

Just make love to me
Just one more time and then you'll see
I can't believe I made a desparate plea
Believe me yeah, ye-ah, no, oh
You see I can't leave, it's too late
I can't leave, it's too late
Don't you know, I can't leave, it's too late
Can't go no where, no
It's too late
It's too late
It's too late
It's too late yeah
Come on babe

Don't you want be strong with me
You told me we could have a family
Want to run to me when you're down and low
But times get tough and there you go
Out the door, you wanna run again
Open your arms and you'll come back in
Wanna run cause you say your afraid, afraid

Never knew what a friendship
Never knew how to really love
You can't be what I need you to
And I don't know what is up with you

I know our love will never be the same
But I can't stand the growing pains

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a9dddca73436412becfd40f83edbc168

Vega-Tables - Lyrics - Brian Wilson

Title: Vega-Tables
Artist: Brian Wilson
Composer(s): Brian Wilson, Van Dyke Park

Lyric:
I'm gonna be round my vegetables
I'm gonna chow down my vegetables
I love you most of all
My favorite vegetable

If you brought a big brown bag of them home
I'd jump up and down and hope you'd toss me a carrot

I'm gonna keep well my vegetables
Cart off and sell my vegetables
I love you most of all
My favorite vegetable

I tried to kick the ball but my tenny flew right off
I'm red as a beet 'cause I'm so embarrassed

Mom and Daddy say
"Sleep a lot, eat a lot
Brush 'em like a crazy
Run a lot, do a lot
Never be lazy"
Oh boy

Sleep a lot, eat a lot
Brush 'em like a crazy
Run a lot, do a lot
Never be lazy
Oh boy

I threw away my candy bar
And I ate the wrapper
And when they told me what I did
I burst into laughter

I know that you'll feel better
When you send us in your letter and
Tell us the name of your
Your favorite vegetable

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aa8810366385153f1efd515b8dcc35a4

In The Kitchen - Lyrics - R. Kelly

Title: In The Kitchen
Artist: R. Kelly
Composer(s): Robert Kelly

Lyric:
Girl you're in the kitchen, cookin' me a meal
Somethin' makes me wanna come in there and get a feel
Walk around in your t-shirt with nothin' else on
Struttin' pass, switchin' that ass while I'm on the phone
Cuttin' up tomatoes, fruits and vegetables and potatoes
Girl, you look so sexy while you're doin' the damn thing

I want sex in the kitchen over by the stove
I want put you on the counter by the buttered rolls
Hands on the table, on your tippy toes
We'll be makin' love like the restaurant was closed

Would you like that?
Tell me right now pretty, babe

Girl, you're in the kitchen, chillin' in your robe
I'm sayin' to myself, she better go, put on some clothes
Ticklin' and teasin', doin' that little dance
Girl, you gon' make me lay you down and give it to you one mo 'gain
Cuttin' up tomatoes, fruits and vegetables and potatoes
Girl, you look so sexy while you're doin' the damn thing that

I want sex in the kitchen over by the stove
I want put you on the counter by the buttered rolls
Hands on the table, on your tippy toes
We'll be makin' love like the restaurant was closed

Sex in the kitchen over by the stove
I want put you on the counter by the buttered rolls
Hands on the table, on your tippy toes
We'll be makin' love like the restaurant was closed

This is what I am ready to do
Girl, I'm ready to
While I'm makin' love, girl, I'll be feastin'

Girl, you're in the kitchen, sweatin' up a storm
The oven's on 500, so you know the kitchen's warm
Girl, you know just how to get into a brother's mind
'Cause here we are still in this kitchen doin' it for the third time
Cuttin' up tomatoes, fruits and vegetables and potatoes
Girl, you look so sexy doing the damn thing that

I want sex in the kitchen over by the stove
Put you on the counter by the buttered rolls
Hands on the table, on your tippy toes
We'll be makin' love like the restaurant was closed

Sex in the kitchen over by the stove
Put you on the counter by the buttered rolls
Hands on the table, on your tippy toes
We'll be makin' love like the restaurant was closed

Sex in the kitchen over by the stove
Put you on the counter by the buttered rolls
Hands on the table, on your tippy toes
We'll be makin' love like the restaurant was closed
...

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0f94d2dcc2a6bf10809dff5d796d8743

In The Kitchen (Remix) - Lyrics - R. Kelly

Title: In The Kitchen (Remix)
Artist: R. Kelly
Composer(s): Robert Kelly

Lyric:
Girl you're in the kitchen, cookin' me a meal
Somethin' makes me wanna come in there and get a feel
Walk around in your t-shirt with nothin' else on
Struttin' pass, switchin' that ass while I'm on the phone
Cuttin' up tomatoes, fruits and vegetables and potatoes
Girl, you look so sexy while you're doin' the damn thing

I want sex in the kitchen over by the stove
I want put you on the counter by the buttered rolls
Hands on the table, on your tippy toes
We'll be makin' love like the restaurant was closed

Would you like that?
Tell me right now pretty, babe

Girl, you're in the kitchen, chillin' in your robe
I'm sayin' to myself, she better go, put on some clothes
Ticklin' and teasin', doin' that little dance
Girl, you gon' make me lay you down and give it to you one mo 'gain
Cuttin' up tomatoes, fruits and vegetables and potatoes
Girl, you look so sexy while you're doin' the damn thing that

I want sex in the kitchen over by the stove
I want put you on the counter by the buttered rolls
Hands on the table, on your tippy toes
We'll be makin' love like the restaurant was closed

Sex in the kitchen over by the stove
I want put you on the counter by the buttered rolls
Hands on the table, on your tippy toes
We'll be makin' love like the restaurant was closed

This is what I am ready to do
Girl, I'm ready to
While I'm makin' love, girl, I'll be feastin'

Girl, you're in the kitchen, sweatin' up a storm
The oven's on 500, so you know the kitchen's warm
Girl, you know just how to get into a brother's mind
'Cause here we are still in this kitchen doin' it for the third time
Cuttin' up tomatoes, fruits and vegetables and potatoes
Girl, you look so sexy doing the damn thing that

I want sex in the kitchen over by the stove
Put you on the counter by the buttered rolls
Hands on the table, on your tippy toes
We'll be makin' love like the restaurant was closed

Sex in the kitchen over by the stove
Put you on the counter by the buttered rolls
Hands on the table, on your tippy toes
We'll be makin' love like the restaurant was closed

Sex in the kitchen over by the stove
Put you on the counter by the buttered rolls
Hands on the table, on your tippy toes
We'll be makin' love like the restaurant was closed
...

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2694a0edf9ec443a03d216aa957e4797

Stealing People'S Mail - Lyrics - Fresh Fruit For Rotten Vegetables - Dead Kennedys

Title: Stealing People'S Mail
Album: Fresh Fruit For Rotten Vegetables
Artist: Dead Kennedys
Composer(s): Jello Biafra, Klaus Flouride, Darren Henley, East Bay Ray

Lyric:
We ain't going to the party
We ain't going to the game
We ain't going to the disco
Ain't gonna cruise down main

We're stealing people's mail
Stealing people's mail, stealing people's mail
Stealing people's mail, stealing people's mail
On a Friday night

Drivin' in the mountains
Winding 'round and 'round
Rummage through your mailboxes
Take your mail back to town

And we got license plates, wedding gifts, tax returns
Checks to politicians from real estate firms
Money, bills and canceled checks
Pretty funny pictures of your kids

We're gonna steal your mail
On a Friday night
We're gonna steal your mail
By the pale moonlight

We got grocery sackful after grocery sackful
After grocery sackful after grocery sackful
After grocery sackful after grocery sackful
Of the private lives of you

People say that we're crazy
We're sick and all alone
But when we read your letters
We're rolling on the floor

And we got license plates, wedding gifts, tax returns
Checks to politicians from real estate firms
Money, bills and canceled checks
We cut relationships with your friends

We're gonna steal your mail
On a Friday night
We're gonna steal your mail
By the pale moonlight

We better not get caught
We'll be dumped in institutions
Where we'll be drugged and shocked
'Til we come out Born Again Christians

Stealing people's mail, stealing people's mail
Stealing people's mail, stealing people's mail
On a Friday night

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f0278f4c21587e8a28cf13c4f6a727a2

Your Emotions - Lyrics - Fresh Fruit For Rotten Vegetables - Dead Kennedys

Title: Your Emotions
Album: Fresh Fruit For Rotten Vegetables
Artist: Dead Kennedys
Composer(s): Jello Biafra, Klaus Flouride, Darren Henley, Ray Pepperell

Lyric:
Your mommy told you this
And your daddy told you that
Always think like this
And never do that

You learned so many feelings
But what is there to that
Which are really yours
Or are you just a copycat

Your school told you this
And your church told you that
Memorize this
And don't you dare look at that

[Incomprehensible]
[Incomprehensible]
Just a tape recorder
Mimicking of the bores

You're so boring, boring, boring
Always tape machine recording
You're so boring, boring, boring
I've heard all this before

Planless and mindless
Scraps from anywhere
Bunch of used parts
From garbage pails everywhere

Frankenstein became a monster
Just like you
Your scars only show
When someone talks to you

You're so boring, boring, boring
Always tape machine recording
You're so boring, boring, boring
I've heard all this before

I've heard all this before
I've heard all this before

Your emotions make you a monster
Your emotions make you a monster
Your emotions make you a monster
Your emotions make you a monster

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25a8bb8d61a97b05cf2d43e688320115

Kill The Poor [Single Remix] - Lyrics - Fresh Fruit For Rotten Vegetables - Dead Kennedys

Title: Kill The Poor [Single Remix]
Album: Fresh Fruit For Rotten Vegetables
Artist: Dead Kennedys
Composer(s): Jello Biafra, Ray Pepperell

Lyric:
Efficiency and progress is ours once more
Look what we get a satellite bomb
It's nice and quick and clean
And gets things done sure got the shuttle

Away with excess enemy
But no less value to property
No sense in war, perfect sense at home

The sun beams down on a brand new day
No more welfare tax to pay
Unsightly slums gone up in flashing light

Jobless millions whisked away
At last we have more room to play
Systems go to kill the poor tonight

Gonna kill kill kill, kill kill the poor
Kill kill kill, kill kill the poor
Kill kill kill, kill kill the poor, tonight

Behold the sparkle of champagne
The crime rate's gone feel free again
Life's a dream with you, Miss Lily White

Jane Fonda on the screen today
Convinced the liberals, it's okay
So let's get dressed and dance away the night

While they, kill kill kill, kill kill the poor
Kill kill kill, kill kill the poor
Kill kill kill, kill kill the poor, tonight

Kill kill kill, kill kill the poor
Kill kill kill, kill kill the poor
Kill kill kill, kill kill the poor, tonight

[Incomprehensible]
Remind us thirty times
Twenty-nine, twenty-eight, twenty-seven
Six, five, four, three, two, one, go, go, go

Behold the sparkle of champagne
The crime rate's gone feel free again
Life's a dream with you, Miss Lily White

Jane Fonda on the screen today
Convinced the liberals, it's okay
So let's get dressed and dance away the night

Kill kill kill, kill kill the poor
Kill kill kill, kill kill the poor
Kill kill kill, kill kill the poor, tonight

Kill kill kill, kill kill the poor
Kill kill kill, kill kill the poor
Kill kill kill, kill kill the poor, tonight

Kill kill kill, kill kill the poor
Kill kill kill, kill kill the poor
Kill kill kill, kill kill the poor, tonight

[Incomprehensible]
Something happened up there

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365aff258aa1d93b344386cd5dbd313a

Holiday In Cambodia - Lyrics - Fresh Fruit For Rotten Vegetables - Dead Kennedys

Title: Holiday In Cambodia
Album: Fresh Fruit For Rotten Vegetables
Artist: Dead Kennedys
Composer(s): Bruce Slesinger, Jello Biafra, East Bay Ray, Klaus Flouride

Lyric:
You been to school for a year or two
Know you've seen it all
Daddy's car thinkin' you'll go far
Back east your type don't crawl

Play ethnicky jazz to parade your snazz
On your five grand stereo
Braggin' that you know how the niggers feel cold
And the slums got so much soul

It's time to taste what you most fear
Right guard will not help you here
Brace yourself, my dear
Brace yourself, my dear

It's a holiday in Cambodia
It's tough, kid, but it's life
It's a holiday in Cambodia
Don't forget to pack a wife

You're a star-belly sneech you suck like a leach
You want everyone to act like you
Kiss ass while you bitch so you can get rich
But your boss gets richer off you

Well you'll work harder with a gun in your back
For a bowl of rice a day
Slave for soldiers till you starve
Then your head is skewered on a stake

Now you can go where people are one
Now you can go where they get things done
What you need, my son
What you need, my son

Is a holiday in Cambodia
Where people dress in black
A holiday in Cambodia
Where you'll kiss ass or crack

Pol Pot
Pol Pot
Pol Pot

And it's a holiday in Cambodia
Where you'll do what you're told
A holiday in Cambodia
Where the slums got so much soul

Pol Pot

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ecc3f78e776918aa683e284860bfb892

When Ya Get Drafted - Lyrics - Fresh Fruit For Rotten Vegetables - Dead Kennedys

Title: When Ya Get Drafted
Album: Fresh Fruit For Rotten Vegetables
Artist: Dead Kennedys
Composer(s): Jello Biafra, Darren Eric Henley, Geoffrey V Lyall, Raymond John Pepperell

Lyric:
Are you believing the morning papers?
War is coming back in style
There's generals here, advisers there
And the Russians nibbling everywhere
The chessboard's filling up with red
We make more profits when we blow off their heads

Economy is looking bad
Let's start another war
(When ya get drafted)
Fan the fires of racist hatred
We want total war
(When ya get drafted)

Drooling fingers, panic buttons
Playing with missiles like they're toys
There's easy money, easy jobs
Especially when you build the bombs that blow big cities off the map
Just guess who profits when we build 'em back up
Yeah, what Big Business wants Big Business gets

It wants a war
(When ya get drafted)
Trilateral Commission goonies laugh and scheme for more
(When ya get drafted)
Call the Army, call the Navy, stocked with kids from slums
(When ya get drafted)
If you can't afford a slick attorney we might make you a spy

Forget your demonstrations
Kids today sit on their ass
(When ya get drafted)
Just a six-pack and you're happy
We're prepared for when ya get drafted
When ya get drafted

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eb9602548205abf6e0e8ad3661276162

California Uber Alles - Lyrics - Fresh Fruit For Rotten Vegetables - Dead Kennedys

Title: California Uber Alles
Album: Fresh Fruit For Rotten Vegetables
Artist: Dead Kennedys
Composer(s): Eric R Boucher, John Greenway

Lyric:
I am Governor Jerry Brown
My aura smiles and never frowns
Soon I will be President

Carter power will soon go away
I will be fuhrer one day
I will command all of you
Your kids will meditate in school
Your kids will meditate in school

California Uber Alles
California Uber Alles
Uber Alles California
Uber Alles California

Zen fascists will control you 100% natural
You will jog for the master race
And always wear the happy face
Close your eyes, can't happen here

Big Bro' on the white horse is near
The hippies won't come back, you say
Mellow out or you will pay
Mellow out or you will pay

California Uber Alles
California Uber Alles
Uber Alles California
Uber Alles California

Now it is 1984
Knock, knock at your front door
It's the suede-denim secret police
They have come for your uncool niece

Come quietly to the camp
You'd look nice as a drawstring lamp
Don't you worry, it's only a shower
For your clothes, here's a pretty flower

Die on organic poison gas
Serpent's egg's already hatched
You will croak, you little clown
When you mess with President Brown
When you mess with President Brown

California Uber Alles
California Uber Alles
Uber Alles California
Uber Alles California

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fc89a5c93d074da308f085ee610b4818

Viva Las Vegas - Lyrics - Fresh Fruit For Rotten Vegetables - Dead Kennedys

Title: Viva Las Vegas
Album: Fresh Fruit For Rotten Vegetables
Artist: Dead Kennedys
Composer(s): Doc Pomus, Mort Shuman

Lyric:
It's Viva Las Vegas

Twilight City gonna set my soul
It's gonna set my soul on fire
Got a whole lot of money that's ready to burn
So get those stakes up high

There's a thousand pretty women waiting out there
They're all waiting, they'll never make air
And I'm just the devil with a lung to spare, so

Viva Las Vegas
Viva Las Vegas
Viva Las Vegas

How I wish that there were more
Than the twenty-four hours in the day
Even if there were forty morning
I wouldn't sleep a minute away

Oh that blackjack and poker and the roulette wheel
I'll poach your money lost on every deal
All you need is sonar and nerves of steel, so

Viva Las Vegas
Viva Las Vegas
Viva Las Vegas

Viva Las Vegas
Where the neon signs flash your name
The one arm bandits cash in
All hopes down the drain

Viva Las Vegas
Turning day into nighttime
Turning night into daytime
If you see it once
You'll never be the same again

Gotta keep on running, gonna have me some money
If it costs me my very last dime
If I wind up broke then, I'll always remember that
I had a swinging time

Oh, I'm gonna give it everything I've got
Lady Luck's with me, the dice stay hot
Got coke up my nose to dry away the snot, so

Viva Las Vegas
Viva Las Vegas
Viva Las Vegas
Viva, Viva Las Vegas, Viva

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117024b42f656a833bf0cd5a6a9aa4e5

Too Drunk To Fuck - Lyrics - Fresh Fruit For Rotten Vegetables - Dead Kennedys

Title: Too Drunk To Fuck
Album: Fresh Fruit For Rotten Vegetables
Artist: Dead Kennedys
Composer(s): Jello Biafra, Klaus Flouride, Darren Henley, Raymond John Pepperell

Lyric:
Went to a party
I danced all night
I drank sixteen beers
And I started up a fight

But now I'm jaded
You're out of luck
I'm rolling down the stairs
Too drunk to fuck

Too drunk to fuck
Too drunk to fuck
Too drunk to fuck
I'm too drunk, too drunk, too drunk to fuck

I like your stories
I like your gun
Shooting out cop tires
Sounds like loads and loads of fun

But in my room
Wish you were dead
You ball like the baby
In Eraserhead

Too drunk to fuck
Too drunk to fuck
Too drunk to fuck
It's all I need right now, too drunk to fuck

Too drunk to fuck
Too drunk to fuck
Too drunk to fuck
I'm sick, soft, gooey and cold, too drunk to fuck

I'm about to drop
My head's a mess
The only salvation is
I'll never see you again

You give me head
It makes it worse
Take out your fuckin' retainer
Put it in your purse

Too drunk to fuck
You're too drunk to fuck, too drunk to fuck
It's all I need right now, oh baby
I'm melting like an ice cream bar, oh baby
And now I got diarrhea, too drunk to fuck

Yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah
Ooh

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b0cd56a208841457c8c54e5c218f3b80

Kill The Poor - Lyrics - Fresh Fruit For Rotten Vegetables - Dead Kennedys

Title: Kill The Poor
Album: Fresh Fruit For Rotten Vegetables
Artist: Dead Kennedys
Composer(s): Jello Biafra, Ray Pepperell

Lyric:
Efficiency and progress is ours once more
Look what we get a satellite bomb
It's nice and quick and clean
And gets things done sure got the shuttle

Away with excess enemy
But no less value to property
No sense in war, perfect sense at home

The sun beams down on a brand new day
No more welfare tax to pay
Unsightly slums gone up in flashing light

Jobless millions whisked away
At last we have more room to play
Systems go to kill the poor tonight

Gonna kill kill kill, kill kill the poor
Kill kill kill, kill kill the poor
Kill kill kill, kill kill the poor, tonight

Behold the sparkle of champagne
The crime rate's gone feel free again
Life's a dream with you, Miss Lily White

Jane Fonda on the screen today
Convinced the liberals, it's okay
So let's get dressed and dance away the night

While they, kill kill kill, kill kill the poor
Kill kill kill, kill kill the poor
Kill kill kill, kill kill the poor, tonight

Kill kill kill, kill kill the poor
Kill kill kill, kill kill the poor
Kill kill kill, kill kill the poor, tonight

[Incomprehensible]
Remind us thirty times
Twenty-nine, twenty-eight, twenty-seven
Six, five, four, three, two, one, go, go, go

Behold the sparkle of champagne
The crime rate's gone feel free again
Life's a dream with you, Miss Lily White

Jane Fonda on the screen today
Convinced the liberals, it's okay
So let's get dressed and dance away the night

Kill kill kill, kill kill the poor
Kill kill kill, kill kill the poor
Kill kill kill, kill kill the poor, tonight

Kill kill kill, kill kill the poor
Kill kill kill, kill kill the poor
Kill kill kill, kill kill the poor, tonight

Kill kill kill, kill kill the poor
Kill kill kill, kill kill the poor
Kill kill kill, kill kill the poor, tonight

[Incomprehensible]
Something happened up there

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fd17f5066dc7324fe5d2c3a25b5bcafb

Police Truck - Lyrics - Fresh Fruit For Rotten Vegetables - Dead Kennedys

Title: Police Truck
Album: Fresh Fruit For Rotten Vegetables
Artist: Dead Kennedys
Composer(s): Jello Biafra, Ray Pepperell

Lyric:
Tonight's the night that we got the truck
We're goin' downtown, gonna beat up drunks
Your turn to drive I'll bring the beer
It's the late, late shift no one to fear

Ride, ride how we ride
Ride, low ride

It's roundup time when the good whores meet
Gonna drag one screaming off the street

And ride, ride how we ride

Black uniform and a silver badge
Cops for real, playin' cops for pay

Let's ride, low ride

Pull down your dress here's the kick in the ass
Beat you blue 'til you shit in your pants
[incomprehensible] got a black stick
There's six of us, babe, so suck on my dick

And ride, ride how we ride
Let's ride, low ride

The left newspapers might whine a bit
But the guys at the station they don't give a shit
Dispatch calls, "Are you doin' something wicked?"
"No siree, Jack, we're just givin' tickets"

As we ride, ride, how we ride
Ride, ride, how we ride

Ride, ride, how we ride
Let's ride, low ride

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1817e1969a0420abffcc4d541757bcd2

Holiday In Cambodia [Single Version] - Lyrics - Fresh Fruit For Rotten Vegetables - Dead Kennedys

Title: Holiday In Cambodia [Single Version]
Album: Fresh Fruit For Rotten Vegetables
Artist: Dead Kennedys
Composer(s): Bruce Slesinger, Jello Biafra, East Bay Ray, Klaus Flouride

Lyric:
You been to school for a year or two
Know you've seen it all
Daddy's car thinkin' you'll go far
Back east your type don't crawl

Play ethnicky jazz to parade your snazz
On your five grand stereo
Braggin' that you know how the niggers feel cold
And the slums got so much soul

It's time to taste what you most fear
Right guard will not help you here
Brace yourself, my dear
Brace yourself, my dear

It's a holiday in Cambodia
It's tough, kid, but it's life
It's a holiday in Cambodia
Don't forget to pack a wife

You're a star-belly sneech you suck like a leach
You want everyone to act like you
Kiss ass while you bitch so you can get rich
But your boss gets richer off you

Well you'll work harder with a gun in your back
For a bowl of rice a day
Slave for soldiers till you starve
Then your head is skewered on a stake

Now you can go where people are one
Now you can go where they get things done
What you need, my son
What you need, my son

Is a holiday in Cambodia
Where people dress in black
A holiday in Cambodia
Where you'll kiss ass or crack

Pol Pot
Pol Pot
Pol Pot

And it's a holiday in Cambodia
Where you'll do what you're told
A holiday in Cambodia
Where the slums got so much soul

Pol Pot

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False Pride - Lyrics - The Sneak Attack - Krs One

Title: False Pride
Album: The Sneak Attack
Artist: Krs One
Composer(s): Lawrence Parker

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Lyric:
Okay now, listen to this

A mystical teacher sat by the seaside
It was about five o'clock 'coz we heard the free ride
Anyway, the teacher was talking in stride
Sitting upon a rock that was wide
And warning against false pride
"Come to where I reside!" a woman cried
And the teacher replied, "Do you serve your fish fried?"
"Yes," she replied, "With potato salad on the side"
And the teacher replied, "Well, where do you reside?"

She said, "Up on the hillside, it's not a far ride
If you came to have dinner, I would be so gratified"
The teacher replied, "It's six o'clock, seven o'clock, you decide"
She replied, "Seven o'clock, do you like stir-fried?"
She was mystified and felt so dignified
The teacher was coming to the house where she resides
So she purified with pesticides
Called her friends up nationwide
Some of her friends were tongue-tied, they felt so glorified

She made steamed fish, baked fish, fish that was fried
Soup, steamed vegetables, potato salad on the side
You could smell the bread in the oven far and wide
Natural juices and water purified
Organic fruits brought from the countryside
With silver forks and knives placed side by side
You could not be dissatisfied
Looking out the window, staring at the mountainside
You would have died

6:59 she's swollen with pride
As the moment intensified, there's a knock from outside
She opens the door, for the teacher has arrived
But to her surprise, it was a bum who cried
"Please, I smelt the bread from outside
One piece" and then she replied
"The teacher is coming, he's soon to have arrived
You're making me look bad, come on now, step aside!"
The bum then replied
"When I say I'm hungry I haven't lied
Give me some of that chicken that you just fried"

She replied, "Chicken, fried?
No that's for the teacher, you're not purified
Then she slammed the door and went back inside
Sat on the couch with the TV Guide
She looked at the clock, it was 7:09, then 7:30
He still hasn't arrived
Eight o'clock, she's on the downside
Nine o'clock, by now she's teary-eyed
She's pissed off and her anger multiplied

She cried, then fell asleep dissatisfied
Next day she woke up, and was preoccupied
With meeting the mystical teacher who lied
Where could he hide?
She ran down by the seaside
He was there teaching about false pride
"You lied" she replied, "You lied
You said you'd be there at seven o'clock, you lied"

He replied, "No, I have not lied
I came at 6:59, and you told me to move aside
I asked for bread and the chicken that was fried
And you said, that I wasn't purified"
She replied, "I wasn't notified
I had no idea that you was the bum that cried"
And the teacher sighed, then replied
"This concludes our lesson on false pride"

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Z - Who You Wit Ii - Lyrics - In My Lifetime Vol. 1 - Jay

Title: Z - Who You Wit Ii
Album: In My Lifetime Vol. 1
Artist: Jay
Composer(s): David Willis, Shawn Carter, Jeff Lorber

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

Lyric:
Uh-huh, yeah hah
Never sprung huh?
Jigga, Roc-a-Fella y'all
Never sprung huh?
Yeah, peep the repertoire
Peoples, feel me on this one
Peoples, feel this
Never sprung huh? Know my style

I love bitches, thug bitches, shy bitches
Rough bitches, don't matter you my bitches
Gold diggers witcha eyes on my riches
Can't knock your hustle for real, exotic bitches
I'm game tight, see it all through the platinum French frames
With the French name in the same night
Pull you and your tight friend
Lift your little dress like light wind, then I slide right in

You know the whole repertoire, U.S. to the U-S-S-R
Sexin' in a Lexus car
Match wits with the best of y'all the rest of y'all
Is like vegetables in my presence, check it
Reminescin' to nuttin' you ever heard, Iceberg
Slim baby ride rims through the suburbs
Funds come in lump sums never ends deferred
Get money like I'm down South Wednesday the third, it's on

Dough to get, more shows to rip
I suggest you all roll with the click, who you with?
Frozen wrists and it's flows that's sick
More O's than you know exist, bitch who you with?

I can't scheme on 'em, Rock-A-Fella got a team on 'em
Chicks dream on him trick cream on him
Lose it when dudes think it's just music
Lean on 'em flash green on 'em and diamond rings on 'em
Sex around the way girls down to Mida's
I'm somethin' every girl gotta have like Levi's
Chiquita, me got more, see I brawl
You can love me or hate me, either or

I'ma stay winnin', rock the custom drop Bentleys
Never eat at Denny's and party like Lil' Penny
Can he live? Trick or main chick but if she leave
Just as quick, Indian give
Now what I look like? Givin' a chick half my trap
Like she wrote half my raps, yeah, I'm havin' that
You be the same chick when you leave me
The bankbook and the credit cards and take everything you came with

Dough to get, more shows to rip
I suggest you all roll with the click, who you with
Frozen wrists and it's flows that's sick
More O's than you know exist, bitch who you with

Here's somethin' niggaz gon' find, not at all funny
We takin' all you bitches, takin' all you money
Jay-Z rated A.G. baby that's all good
I sink this ball in your hole, I'm Tiger Woods
If the money was the grass and your ass was tee
When I hit it with this club love you comin' with me
Grip you right up under your ass, put your back on the wall
Kinda tipsy, seein' triple, so I'm fuckin' you all

You remind me of this dream I had the night before
I'm kinda hopin' the condom break to have a reason to go raw
I'm playin', hit the showers, hit the money spot
Where all the models play and big money is dropped
Drop the top, let her feel the moonlight it entranced her
She jumped all in my seat like some private dancer
I tell you somethin' new, if you don't hop down off that
Butter soft shit with your shoes, I'ma step on the gas

She laughed, put her ass back in the proper place
She said, "I played my cards right and look I got the ace"
I told her boom, slow down baby
You dealin' with a baller, who, hold ground crazy it's on

Dough to get, more shows to rip
I suggest you all roll with the click, who you with
Frozen wrists and it's flows that's sick
More O's than you know exist, bitch who you with

Dough to get, more shows to rip
I suggest you all roll with the click, who you with
Frozen wrists and it's flows that's sick
More O's than you know exist, bitch who you with

Dough to get, more shows to rip
I suggest you all roll with the click, who you with
Frozen wrists and it's flows that's sick
More O's than you know exist, bitch who you with

Dough to get, more shows to rip
I suggest you all roll with the click, who you with
Frozen wrists and it's flows that's sick
More O's than you know exist, bitch who you with

Fucker, Jigga
Nine-seven shit, next millenia
Recognize, realize, it's on
Rock the block y'all
Laughing, it's on

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100 Rounds - Lyrics - Raekwon

Title: 100 Rounds
Artist: Raekwon
Composer(s): Sean Kelly, Corey Woods

Lyric:
Yo what's up D? Huh?
You bought that from tower records?
What?s that let me see that bag
Get the fuck off get the fuck off it
Come here man what the fuck I
Like that nigga give me that man
You dead on this purple tape nigga you dead on that
Fuck outta here

Niggas think I can't sell five million?
Ya'll niggas is mad
Ya'll must not know the work I put in on this
For real that's for real for real
Represent flick it up all day nigga
Immobilarity
Ya'll know my work this category is raw

Aea yo slash your position
Verbal mike physician
Blow lines like chimes in the kitchen
God should vega straight up stomp that fake out
What he biting everything, biting his nuts
We slang like champions
Caught me in the outlet in Hamptons
Style it out

Throwin' four thousand out
Swimsuit mammal get high
Float flammable
Drop off in a Benz boat lampable
Rear like hittin' a deer
Playin Cuban Linx movin' in the chair, he got a ear
No question all brolic guerillas stand up
Whoever large throw a hand up, throw a grand up

Let's like multiply
Conect both sides big shit low rides galide
Everybody bump once
Yo chef gonna throw ya'll niggas free lunch
Hit the L twice need it once
Track be yelling like a whore
Like a swelling on a sore
Or this rap Magellion on your jaw

I'm a night freak
Boating on the weekends, ten a week
Flows spray it like clinique
Rich unique bitch you weak
Contact Reek we callin' up Leek
Yo he famous like Ali feet yo Mystikal
Rap Larry Davis with a pistol and this you
You a student fuckin' with a principal

Rollin' like ten at a time
Begin love revolves around a thin line
Go against this send mine
Lace you chase you down
Let a hundred rounds race you
Now you went from brolic to a facial

Rollin' like ten at a time
Begin love revolves around a thin line
Go against this send mine
Lace you chase you down
Let a hundred rounds race you
Now you went from brolic to a facial

Yo aea yo, glass tree house
Yo fiendin' like fuck in a green house
Rush and cut chain cream out blow steam out
Rare like Guccis in ears goose bears
Skied up lovin' all my Deustch years
Coat for broadway
Hundred and thirty ninthth all day
Got my chick rollin' call her Parle

20th Century Max like jail penitentiary
Nikki Barnes gon' lynch me
What, fruit flavored Nikes
Benz 2000 the hype piece
Send half my love out to white peeps
Wu-Tang emblem success make a nigga tremble
Nine of us stand nine resemble
Filling out tax reports look live up in guess shorts

Bitches got love and support
Yo leather jacket yellow
Leather hat mack it real mellow
New York state of mind crime Othello
Wild zoo of bitches burrow that's staten
Yo we actin' wud up we do that crack thing captain
Still camaflouge jackets mad rackets
Out yo we cap shit picture that nigga mashin'

Rollin' like ten at a time
Begin love revolves around a thin line
Go against this send mine
Lace you chase you down
Let a hundred rounds race you
Now you went from brolic to a facial

Rollin' like ten at a time
Begin love revolves around a thin line
Go against this send mine
Lace you chase you down
Let a hundred rounds race you
Now you went from brolic to a facial

Yo aea yo, blowin' more reason
For a season wud up shortie jaw season
Baltimore hall bleeding
Take money remember that don't gon' be my son
Dripped out in Bahamas all bummy
Gain you out patriot
Portion of my love mad shit
Now we with things the long gray shit

Luke bitches in Barook
Cute big fat bitches with Luke
Lex you need boots that switches
Flights over Iraq ironing my hat out and 'lax
Connecting with diplomat cats
Harlem hustle connect Iceberg varsity check
Rimmin' well ice drool off my dick
Abe Lincoln President suites lay eventually

Pinch me I bought head from Monica Lewinsky
Arrest that hoodlum strong arm that the white gooden
Faggot nigga frontin' knew he wouldn't
Flexible impact rhymin' professional
We staked out eatin' all side vegetables
Prosperity rhymes lines
Casians and Asians
Let's blaze niggas with the shine

Rollin' like ten at a time
Begin love revolves around a thin line
Go against this send mine
Lace you chase you down
Let a hundred rounds race you
Now you went from brolic to a facial

Rollin' like ten at a time
Begin love revolves around a thin line
Go against this send mine
Lace you chase you down
Let a hundred rounds race you
Now you went from brolic to a facial

Yeah word up that's right
Y'all be loving my shit
Yeah all the real niggas stand up
Hey yo hey yo let me speak let me speak
Yo, this a new year right here
It's the two with the three zeros, here me?
It's gonna get technical for real

Let's play the game right
It's just a friendly game of baseball
Feel me hey yo Santana, yo
Bring that suitcase in here kid
Let's count that, where it came from?
Where it came from?
Rollin' like ten at a time
Action packed thriller is this

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