older I tripped the merry-go-round With this very unpleasing sneezing and wheezing the calliope crashed to the ground Some all-hot half-shot was headin' for
(Busta rhymes) you can talk about your money but i really dont care im into coppin streets shit im trying to buy air im the first black nigga that i
screen There's something I don't like About a band who always smiles Another tax write-off For some schmuck who doesn't care M.T.V. Get off the air
on screen There's something I don't like About a band who always smiles Another tax write-off For some schmuck who doesn't care M.T.V. Get off the air
my door He left at dawn and as I slept, I felt him go {Loop of Erik Satie, as in Pet Shop Boys' Jack The Lad} New York, New York, temperature's droppin' The band
bang ! Car tous leurs medias a chaque fois me rendent dingue, On est pas dans le meme gang, mais sur le son on deglingue My crew is ready now ! Ready for
out people moving in why because of the color of their skin Run, run, run but you just can't hide An eye for and eye a tooth for a tooth vote for me I
you bizaare Shit screw the boots, ya'll dun raped a pitbull Fell in love with Shih-tzu This is directed directly at you And as for these hoes who don'
for all, and I heard it said You can bet your life Stakes are high and so am I It's in the air tonight It's a free for all
band And he'll toot his flute for you Come fly with me, let's take off in the blue Once I get you up there where the air is rarified We'll just glide
llama land there's a one-man band And he'll toot his flute for you Come fly with me, let's take off in the blue Once I get you up there where the air
one To make me loose the same God if i could recognize The things to make me whole again And draw this air into my lungs Remember how to breathe For
agression, full of pains Stage is open, light comes up Metal kids go mad Count - down is on for the band Drunken women, drunken men Show their hands for
rings could this mean time for fun we take off to the Palais that's where the action is everybody's waiting for the show to begin The band is really
jungle line The jungle line, the jungle line Screaming in a ritual of sound and time Floating, drifting on the air-conditioned wind And drooling for
reality It's too complicated for the minds outside the lines Drawn when the volume of drums gets over nine I'm a, part of a movement not meant for
st Verse - Violent J] Smell the air that makes you sick Psycho sick, psycho sick Pin you down and gets inside your brain Psycho sick insane Who's to blame for