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AESOP ROCK lyrics - Fast Cars, Danger, Fire And Knives

Fast Cars

Original and similar lyrics
Who's that walking with a whole in his head? Big bad Bazooka Tooth, I came to break bread. What's a troop's recipe for treacherous times? I tell 'em fast cars, danger, fire and knives. Fast cars, danger, fire and knives... I got her majesty Athena riding shotty wide-eyed I pull the elephant tranq out of my neck, gaffle a tank, count up the chips, wrestle the fangs off of my fist, flood a little soldier blood over the ogre acres on some holiday in Cambodia with moter home appraisers. Pagans fade into the kodochrome now, later with a lid to brow staple revist the cobra landing zone. Molar foaming but he hold his own wound coderized by the Zippo he had stole that afternoon. And my dog tags jingle by the moster island heart he built. Grew up with a Jughead crown tild and tardy slip. Be all you can be just never soothed us. You lost me in that part about scrubbing piss with a toothbrush. Holler scum's lullaby. Live from the ultra-fly sham city bunker where the coldest cults multiply alarmingly. Hush little baby, timeout. The black market mockingbirds can not sing a lick but lean to peck your eyes out of commission with love, out a tradition of wraiths pick on the visions that buzz, bet on the kitten's escape, solder the piston to pump out a veteran amplifier. And magnify through the samelens that set the ants on fire. Flush the muppet hootenanny. Who could fancy honor circuit when the circle's every duke is clammy? Trooper, scoop the food in pantry. Anti up, stupid. May delusion feed 'em foofi candy and pry the gold out of his when lamping. Pocket all you can now. Block will lead the lambs down to the cold cutlery outfit. Slaughter beef and cow tip. Pour the chief somefountain soda, motor prone to pen the holy opus and pry this monkey off the scoliosis. Who's that walking with a whole in his head? Big bad Bazooka Tooth, I came to break bread. What's a troop's recipe for treacherous times? I tell 'em fast cars, danger, fire and knives. Fast cars, danger, fire and knives... I got her majesty Athena riding shotty wide-eyed Never mind the bullocks. Like every other week these hipster tabloids jumping on and off my sex pistol's bullets. Like every other week he spins the bottle. Like every other week these fucking fanzines forget if they spit or swallow. Too bad your inner sheep never forgets to follow, cuz my inner greed to feed your hate for loving us is hostile. Fortunate for me it coincides with what comes natural, so the mongrels that I run with turn the 'fuck you's into fast food. Like a little freak sick of the 3 o'clock bully knuckle dust, nursing his last shiner, finds the shoebox in his smother's truck. Tomorrow's extra curricular punching bag will finger daddy's widow maker out a brown lunch bag. This is where the hunch back snake oil peddlers stuck under the burgundy sky of spaghetti westerns tend to bubble up. Weathermen huddle up. Today the son of one too many 'yes sir's kings his checkers, watch the double jump. Back with a platter of hot leeches that'll drink up-every bloody drop down to the last diseases, it's A-E-S-O-P-R-O-C-K, the peak twister. Defender of the son of Vaughn Bode's Cheech Wizard. I used to pray the treatments got easier with my aging like serotonin weekends were merely comedic hazing. Wrong, but along his travels located the key to world peace: kill every motherfucker but me. You cool with that? Cool. Bang. You? Cool. Hang. You? No? Uh... bang? Cool. Sorry, dog, rules is rules. And too long have I followed yours. I'm trying to get them years back, and walk through every cipher with dynamite in a beer hat. Who's that walking with a whole in his head? Big bad Bazooka Tooth, I came to break bread. What's a troop's recipe for treacherous times? I tell 'em fast cars, danger, fire and knives. Fast cars, danger, fire and knives... I got her majesty Athena riding shotty wide-eyed

What The Fuck

(chorus) What now? Now you would destroy the earth Dry, the river beds What now? Now in your control, birth and death Dry, the bodies, incandescent in the heat Your fire is melting both soil and soul In plan maybe, is that not enough? Your war and raving of it is so total You're consumed by it as you'd consume us Would you see the fire from your sanctuary of death? What terrible pain you need to hide In your hatred you'd seek to destroy the earth What is it that you have been denied? Your mind and its rantings are so barren What the fuck are you thinking? What the fuck? Your eyes and their vision, empty, staring What the fuck are you seeing? What the fuck? So singularly your motives, yet impossible to define How finely lined my destiny in the cobwebs of your crime So insular your future, so alien your plan Take all of this if you will and take what I can A town that is no more My God , you say, What have I done? But you won't heed what's gone before What pity? , you say, There is none And so you drive the world to war But this war will not be lost or won The desolation that you've seen but never saw Is the lesson that you teach, but never learn But would you see the fire in the world where you exist? Will your hard eyes register the pain? Are you so cold that there is no distress? Where there's death would you give death again? No flowers in your landscape, some withered rose Kicked amongst the corpses where they lay Halted where all hope died, froze By the horror of your acts compelled to stay Unnoticed all this in your lusting after death How determined that your darkness should be shared Unnoticed in your blindness this miracle of breath What element of beauty attracts your cruel desire? Would you see the burning? Is that your delight? Would you have me see it in your stead? Would you feel my yearning? Peace, life, light Body, breath. Would you take all this? What is it that you're seeking, so cold and so deprived? What is it that you dream of in your empty eyeless head? Why must I share your lust of death? Can you not die alone? Why must I share your fear of breath Life, light, PEACE?

In The Wake Of Poseidon

KING CRIMSON "In The Wake Of Poseidon"
Plato's spawn cold ivyed eyes Snare truth in bone and globe. Harlequins coin pointless games Sneer jokes in parrot's robe. Two women weep, Dame Scarlet Screen Sheds sudden theatre rain, Whilst dark in dream the Midnight Queen Knows every human pain. In air, fire, earth and water World on the scales. Air, fire, earth and water Balance of change World on the scales On the scales. Bishop's kings spin judgement's blade Scratch Faith on nameless graves. Harvest hags Hoard ash and sand Rack rope and chain for slaves Who fireside fear fermented words Then rear to spoil the feast; Whilst in the aisle the mad man smiles To him it matters least. Heroes hands drain stones for blood To whet the scaling knife. Magi blind with visions light Net death in dread of life. Their children kneel in Jesus till They learn the price of nails; Whilst all around our mother earth Waits balanced on the scales.

Grand Hang Out

NELLY "Sweat"
[Nelly] i see ya niggaz out here rentin and leasin these cars frontin like ya buyin, claimin that u makin so much paper but i know that i know that u a liar chorus let a grand hang out let a grand hang out dig deep into ya pockets let a grand hang out let a grand hang out let a grand hang out if u ballin the quit the stallin let a grand hang out [Nelly] uuh uuh uhh! c'mon! hey yo i pulled up so aggressive niqqa hoppin out the thang ice drippin wet like i just hopped up out the rain my picture perfect pose like i just hopped up out a frame and a coach that can take me out the game my heart beats forever like my name was Eddie King a midwest rider like my derrty Jesse James the CEO of derrty and he go by Cornell Haynes mean-muggin all u niqqas like i hopped up outcha dame im like uh oh there he go oh A hundred and twenty up Natural Bridge in that Mo-Mo slippin and slidin look how he ridin past the poh-poh he blazin that fire behind the tent cuz they dont know oh Whoo! I'm really thinkin of changin my name to Krispy Kreme I'm do-nuts nigga, let me tell you what I mean I'm paper chasin, chasin the paper, you chasin dreams My money gettin stronger like it's takin Creatine [Chorus] [Nelly] Uhh, uhh, uhh [Young Tru] My pockets like Wyclef Jean, the +Fu-gees+ We them locksmith boys, we keep a few ki's Caterpillar pimp, that butterfly whores Lamborghini spreewells, butterfly doors Some'n like McDonald's when I move in packs Quarter-Pound Supersized bullets and Big Mac's House longer than I-70, arise ten stories And I still +Rob+ niggaz just like Horry Everybody hate on Young Tru boy Cause they know that the nigga on fire fire fire fire Rap phenomenon - soon as the album drop artists don't eat like the month of Ramadan Derrty this, Derrty that, guess I'm a Derrty cat Sellin niggaz some chickens, rob 'em get the birdies back Plumber of the game, that flood the state In a stretch Phantom, with more Windows than Bill Gates {*echoes*} [Chorus] [Nelly] Uhh, uhh, Joey Crack! [Fat Joe] Yeah.. they lease and we buy 'em, we peace and they crime They dyin cause we street, keep heat, and keep firin Y'all know, top of the world's my motto (uhh) Anna Kournikovia, baby girl's my model (uhh) All I wanted in life is to be a soldier Now you can find me with chicks just doin yoga Meditation that Marley, the hydraulicals You heard Big, go check the Brown, they might hire you High definition to any form of telecast Me and young derrty got plenty hoes and hella cash All I need is a minute to 'Shatter Your Dreams' And we about to sell more than Avril Lavigne (biatch!) And all I do is rep the hood where the jugs be Can't help it if the folks at MTV love me Y'all see the T.S. we shinin, come to the B-X we grindin Y'all wanna be us keep tryin, we buyin, he's lyin [Chorus] [Nelly] Uhh.. uhh, ladies! [Remy Martin] We like, fuck, that; I need a stack And like, forty-nine to go with that I'm quick to, tell a hoe her flow is wack The type to, cop the jersey, throw it back See I can stunt and tell a chick 'Yo let your man hang out' Since he frontin like it's nothin, let a grand hang out Fuck a handout, I been gettin watts since way back Can't wait to see they faces when I drop the Maybach You lyin, you claim you buyin but you rentin and leasin If you pimpin and niggaz spendin, where's the paper you seein? Stop stallin, I'm ballin, call me Sheryl Swoops Can't stand the backseat driver, that's why I cop the Coupe Yeah, I been testin law with the darkest tints So explicit valet had to tip to park the shit (errt!) I'm like a - block away and the whip be startin (uhh) Oh God, it's Remy Martin! [Chorus] - repeat to fade

Hold Ya Head

2PAC "Makaveli - The Don Killuminati: The 7 Day Theory"
My homeboys in Clinton And Rikers Island Mumia Atumie, Gerino Pratt, All the political Prisoners San Quiton Yeah One Thug, One Thug How do we keep the music playing One Thug, One Thug I wake up early in the morning My state so Military Suckas Fantasize, Pictures of a Young Brother Buried Was it me, The Weed, Or this life I lead If daytime is for suckas then Tonight we Bleed Out for all that Knowing that this world brings drawbacks Look how this shit bumps Once I deliver these war raps Meet me at the cemetary Dressed in Black Tonight we Follow the dead And those who won't be back So if I die To the same for me Shed no tear An Outlaw, thug living in this game, for years Why worry, Hope to god Get me high When I'm burried Knowing deep inside me Only if yah love Come rush me to the gates of heaven Let me picture for a while How I live for my days, as a child I wonder now How do we outlast, always get cash Stay strong if we all mash Hold Your head [Chorus] How do we keep the music playing How do we get ahead To many young black brothers are dying Living Fast, too fast These felonies be like prophecies Begging me to stop Cuz These lawyers getting money Everytime they knock us Slashing pockets lyrically Suckas fleed when they notice Switched my name to Makaveli Had the rap game closed Expose foes, with my hocus pocus flows They froze Now suckas idealize my choosen Blows More money mean litigating More Playa hating Got a cell at the penn for me waiting Is this my fate Miss me with that mistermeaner thinking Me fall back Never That Too much Tequilla drinking We all that Make them understand me Hey I'll stay all night out with my Posse Everyone roll with me is family Cuz everybodies got me Watch me paint a perfect vision This life we living Got us all meeting up in Prison Last week I got a letter from my road dog Written in Blood Saying, 'Please show a young playa love' Hold your head Hold it [Chorus] How do we keep the music playing How do we get ahead To many young black brothers are dying Living Fast, too fast God bless the child that can hold is own Indeed Enemies Bleed when I hold my chrome Let these words be to last to my unborn seeds Hope to raise my young nation In this world of greed Currency means nothing if you still ain't free Money breeds jealousy Take the game from me I hope for better days Trouble comes naturally Running from authorities Till they capture me And my AIM is to spread more smiles than tears Utilalize lessons learned from my childhood years Maybe Mama had it all right Rest your head Straight converstion all night Bless the dead To the homies that I usta have That no longer roll Catch a brother at the crossroads Plus nobody knows my soul Watching time pass Through the glass of my drop top Hold your head [Chorus]


ANDRE NICKATINA "Hell's Kitchen"
They call me Tennessee tornado You can call me Dr J if you a baller, and it's getting fatal My big 6 crush the whole table Cause my domino effect is from the grey back to the cradle I rap MC lullabies So these cats bring 38's, tek nines and 45's The grass is green, so we stay high Freak, how you gonna buy a burger, didn't get the damn fries I leave ya stiff when I elevate 5-0 at the door, tigers all hit the fire 'scape I got my money, my weed, I got my wallet Staggering like an alcoholic, just can't call it, yo [Chorus:] We do these things and we don't give a fuck We fire up a blunt, in the car bumpin' Cougnut I got on my blue star Chucks We fire up a blunt, in the car bumpin' Cougnut My rap mag plays laser tag So they can find your hand and the mic' in the brown bag I wear my pants with a slight sag I expose your shows with flows, man, cause I love cash I rhyme gamble like Pete Rose And I sport new clothes on you MC fine hoes I locate like transmitters And you know with my wood your heart fill the five spitter? I ain't nothin but a go-getter Some think I'm Tut so they label me a gold nigga Keep skis like a gold digger Like credit card scams that exceed in the 4 figures [Chorus x4]

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