You keep telling me This voltage hurts just a little In the thickness of the van You drop anchor if and when Concealing all the thoughts We hid and laughed
You keep telling me this voltage hurts just a little in the thickness of the van you drop anchor if and when concealing all the thoughts we hid and laughed
Translation: At The Drive In. Communication Drive-In.
can I get it tonight? (repeat once more) {verse 2} No Christmas here I'm taking time and a half gotta make that cash even if a nigga gotta drive that
Mac, Acker Bilk and all other communicators around the world who contributed to this album. Recorded live at Trancentral Further Information: --------------------
Yeah, check it Yo yeah I smoke weed now I don't give a fuck And I also tote guns in case my dram pop up It's crew love I spit two at every few thugs Fo
a player so tough So that you never player wanna put his pimped up ride I'll be hard headed, super thug You want me at home but I'll be at the club
all gotta move This bottom rung ain't no fun at all No fires and rock houses and grape-flavored rat poison They are the new trinity For this so-called community
When I was a kid I would go to the show and see the rock star I'd play my records and look at the album cover at the rock star Sometimes I'd check out
Kill that cat, watch me kill that cat If it's your girl, I'm lookin' at Then watch me kill that cat I hunt cunts like these, with underground disease
and the money makers Club niggaz, Magic City and them Southern playas I never said I was a gangsta but I will do ya So Hallelujah, Hallelujah One for the playas at
what kind of car you drive or what kind of fancy clothes you put on, you will never be them. They're always gonna look at you as nothing but a little
im the lawman thats my fishin hole and my deer stand My corn field aint no community park So you better stop sneakin around in the dark Go park them trucks at
for the establishment Niggas that's havin' shit and if you ain't roll on and stroll on This is the spot were the bangers at, the slangers at Where red
The birds they make faces at me It's all a big conspiracy They start to sing when I try to sleep It drives me mad, They're calling Under my rock, It never
the Republicans, drives a late model white Miata or something like that, anyway he's got the usual facade and at night he drives around and rapes and
tha fun that it's gonna be So meet me at 3' and don't be late nigga We hagin' out all night while drinkin' straight liquor I heard it's popin' at a club
