Ярость Против Машины - Быки на параде | Текст песни

• Тексты песен
• Ярость Против Машины
• Быки на параде

This microphone explodes, shatteringthe molds
Ya either drop tha hits like de la O or get thaFuck off tha commode
Wit tha sure shot, sure ta make thaBodies drop
Drop an don't copy yo, don't call thisa co-opt
Terror rains drenchin', quenchin' tha thirst ofTha power dons
That five sided fist-a-gon
Tha rotten sore on tha face of mother earth gets
bigger
Tha triggers cold empty ya purse
They rally round tha family
With a pocket full of shells
Weapons not food, not homes, not shoes
Not need, just feed the war cannibal animal
I walk tha corner to tha rubble that used to be alibrary
Line up to tha mind cemetaryWhat we don't know keeps tha contracts alive anmovin'
They don't gotta burn tha books they just remove'em
While arms warehouses fill as quick as tha cells
Rally round tha family, pockets full of shells
Rally round tha family
With a pocket full of shells
Bulls on parade


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