Hyp
04/25/10, 06:19 PM
Thats not the actual title (haven't thought of one yet), just the subject matter of these lyrics. Check them out an tell me what you thinkk
Verse 1:
Fire from the rafters, you won't even hear a sound
Only smolder fallen angels, circling, mayday, around
I was gonna take a peek, but only came out like a clown
This, under-serving waitress going down
Nonchalant logistics tell me everything's alright
But I do not serve them quarters, less the day becomes the night
Purchase one microphone, but i spit into the mic
Til this relevant narrative reach the likeness, your highness
Hook:
So do not tell me of the little ones. I know
that kung pao chicken avoid legit inspecto
This is the dawning of the two three and the fo'
We going strong tonight you know it, ay yo yo
(repeat)
Verse 2:
Staring competition with your steel toe boot eyelets
But I do not feel a thing, product of somebody's pyrex
I will not move, for I have smoothed this one relationship
Stock car racing, sanding paper, we were kids (we were kids)
Money money for the power, and with it you've got the truth
The cowards funny funny in the suits complete with imaginary laurels
Okay, bypass the membrane, running back days of our youth
One must labor for his fruits, or the pewter judge yells his order, order, order
(Hook)
Verse 1:
Fire from the rafters, you won't even hear a sound
Only smolder fallen angels, circling, mayday, around
I was gonna take a peek, but only came out like a clown
This, under-serving waitress going down
Nonchalant logistics tell me everything's alright
But I do not serve them quarters, less the day becomes the night
Purchase one microphone, but i spit into the mic
Til this relevant narrative reach the likeness, your highness
Hook:
So do not tell me of the little ones. I know
that kung pao chicken avoid legit inspecto
This is the dawning of the two three and the fo'
We going strong tonight you know it, ay yo yo
(repeat)
Verse 2:
Staring competition with your steel toe boot eyelets
But I do not feel a thing, product of somebody's pyrex
I will not move, for I have smoothed this one relationship
Stock car racing, sanding paper, we were kids (we were kids)
Money money for the power, and with it you've got the truth
The cowards funny funny in the suits complete with imaginary laurels
Okay, bypass the membrane, running back days of our youth
One must labor for his fruits, or the pewter judge yells his order, order, order
(Hook)