lyrics game.. figure it out and post your own..

"cigarette" - um....the clarks...or clark...something like that.

here's an oldie but goodie - (middle verse)

Six o'clock - TV hour. Don't get caught in foreign tower. Slash and burn,
return, listen to yourself churn. Lock him in uniform and book burning,
blood letting. Every motive escalate. Automotive incinerate. Light a candle,
light a motive. Step down, step down. Watch a heel crush, crush. Uh oh,
this means no fear - cavalier. Renegade and steer clear! A tournament,
a tournament, a tournament of lies. Offer me solutions, offer me alternatives
and I decline.

 

End of the world as we know it.

 

darlin' don't you go and cut your hair
do you think it's gonna make him change?
"i'm just a boy with a new haircut"
and that's a pretty nice haircut
charge it like a puzzle, hit me wearin' muzzles
hesitate to die, look around, around, the second drummer's drowned
his telephone is found

 

pavement. cut your hair


I got cash in Fuck You quantities
Know what?
That makes you uncomfortable?
Fuck you and the Land Rover you drove in on

Fuck your Saab convertable
And fuck your twice weekly trips to the analyst
Stupid mutha fuck

Fuck the Hamptons
The fly infested south of france
I'm paid asshole,
I got more cash than God can count
so why don't you
Just die

Choke to death on your damn designer bagel from Bar Deuches
Low cholesterol, naturally

Fuck your big ol' Sunday New York Times
Fuck the Wall Street Journal
And Newsweek
And the lot
Including Nation, Village Voice, Guardian and the rest
Stupid set of priviliged mutha fuckers
Think its fashionable to have
An alternative view

An alternative view

And fuck, if you can
Your pencil thin, Evian drinking, calorie counting, caffiene limiting, sodium spearing, nutrasweet sweetening, rear view mirror preening, carrot nibbling bunny

Go drown in a lake of Diet Coke Fuckah

I got cash

What else matters?

I got cash

Slave

Fuck your fencing and screw your squash,
Piss on your Paulo and your Pavoratti,
Fuck all that shit you call music and pretend to enjoy

I got cash,
Mega cash,
I'm happy with that,
Oh go and sit on your ski rug,
Money talks you little pussy,

You let your politically correct pals know,
That i think you're a dick also,
You dirty asshole

And your idea of multiculturalism
Japanese restaurant on Monday,
Indian on tuesday,
And on Wednesday, Carribean,
Not too spicy please

Well
I got stash on stash and it ain't novo cash.
Moneys in my family for generations,
My great great great grandfather made the bag,
Selling European slaves in Africa

I got cash mutha fuckah,
And you can't tell whether or not I'm joking, can you?
Dumb Fuck.

 

BFE *edit* yea, I got some help w/ this one from someone here at work.

I'm gon' write a letter, telephone every town I know
I'm gon' write a letter, telephone every town I know
If I can't find her in West Helena, she must be in East Monroe I know

I don't want no woman, wants every downtown man she meet
I don't want no woman, wants every downtown man she meet
She's a no good doney, they shouldn't 'low her on the street

 

Brooklyn Funk Essentials whip ass.

 

Baby this is love
Discount coupons floated from above
Broiled chickens sang us
Love songs from a skewer
Have you ever been this close
To going down the sewer

 

Here is the bridge to my current favorite song

Father's a name you haven't earned yet
You're just a child with a temper
Haven't you heard Don't hit a lady?
Kickin' your ass would be a pleasure

 

I can't believe none of you got this one.. i'll give you a hint.

it's a male who looks like a female and likes little boys who was once black now white.

 

Nice.

And yours is bad. No wait, I mean "Bad".