Moderators: Elvis, DrVolin, Jeff
yeahbyme wrote:Send it to my dear dark head. Someday....
Boots Riley wrote:And the wealth don't trickle down
People pinchin' every nickel now
Even if we don't fight bodies hit the ground
I spit the sound of a million fists finna pound
I'm in the crowd 'til this whole thing switch around
Our brains are on temporary disconnect
I shoot my mouth off, I can't find my pistol yet
You can call this music disrespect
Cuz I'll slap you in your face at your local discoteque
Mr Green with your missiles and rockets
My paycheck burns a hole in your pocket
You told the judge put my name on the docket
Meetin' in the break room, here's what we plotted -
IanEye wrote:
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