November
December 2007
Pojkar älskar att göra musik :)
www.myspace.com/densortia
Nu får man börja sjunga julsånger...
Hey, little sister, who's your superman?
Det e nån som våldtar din mamma
på storvaruhusets golv
det är nån som kidnappar små små barn
och torterar dom med tuggummivåld
han slipar sin kniv
JO, jag ritade en fisk...
Sen kom jag på att jag kan ju använda den till mitt projektarbete...Fisch Clothing...
Och det var svin-lajbans, för jag ritar ALDRIG fiskar annars :) kul-kul...
Usch usch
Yeah ya tryin' ta tire me, tire me
I can see you in front of me, front of me
Ya tryin' ta tire me, tire me
Why don't you get from in front of me?
Oh she's got everyone's eyes
Yeah!
In every home
feel the funk blast,
feel the funk blast,
FEEL THE FUNK BLAST,
a yo-yo-yo-yo-yo-yo-yo, check it out yo-yo-yo
I be walkin god like a dog
My narrative fearless
Word war returns to burn
Like Baldwin home from Paris, Uh
Like steel from a furnace
I was born landless
Yes its tha native son
Born of Zapatas guns
Stroll through the shanties
And tha cities remains
Same bodies buried hungry
But with different last names
The vultures robbin everything
Leave nothing but chains
Pick a point on the globe
Yes tha pictures tha same
Theres a bank, theres a church, a myth and a hearse
A mall and a loan, a child dead at birth
Theres a widow pig parrot
A rebel to tame
A whitehooded judge
A syringe and a vein
And the riot be the rhyme of the unheard
What ya say? What ya say? What ya say? What?
Calm like a bomb
This aint subliminal
Feel the critical mass approach horizon
Tha pulse of the condemned
Sound off Americas demise
Tha anti-myth rhythm rock shocker
Yes I spit fire
Hope lies in the smoldering rubble of empires
Yes back through tha shanties and tha cities remains
Same bodies buried hungry, uh-huh
With different last names, uh-huh
The vultures robbin everyone
Leave nothing but chains
Pick a point here at
När du väl är så nära så att jag kan känna din lukt blir det bara fel
Det kanske bara är så att dom lite äldre som jag alltid svansade runt och
Last night a little dancer came dancing to my door
Last nigh a little angel came pumping on my floor
She said come on baby, I got a license to love
And if it expires pray help from above
In the midnight hour she cried more more more
With the rebel yell she cried more more more
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