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Year 311 (CCCXI) was a common year starting on Monday (link will display the full calendar) of the Julian calendar. At the time, it was known as the Year of the Consulship of Valerius and Maximinus (or, less frequently, year 1064 Ab urbe condita). The denomination 311 for this year has been used si… more »

We were born in the seventies 
The rippin' and rhyming and brethren, see
We're filling, taste great
In the old school, I was eight 
For the new school, I was late
But in high school, I was debate 
I rate in the great state of California 
I'm warning ya

Je vais a la plage parce que le guignol est chouette!
I kick nonsense in French, tasty like Crepe Suzette
I bet you're feeling famished for a 311 sandwich Not the whack DJ's that I'm a damage 
I like a beat that's unique and, yes, I like my head zooming 
And in my Continental, you know that shit's booming 
With the diamond in the back, suicide doors
You can look from here to eternity 
And never receive your morsel 

 Another tale of ordinary madness:
The girl who gave you her sex I heard was homeless, say
All I really want to is to feel nirvana 
Won't you take me tonight and we just might find
A bottle of wine and feel our nasty nature
Your tongue lickin' up my tongue 
Your radio pickin' up a smoky, jazz love song Madness becomes you even though you're
Livin' life, it's hard to exist when you're tempted 
By flesh, you want to bust through  Beautiful legs in the bar, there is poetry 
She bends and suspends and her ass
Is a marvelous thing

A dance dancin' at a club the Hereafter 
Who can't really dance but that doesn't really matter
And she won't hear applause 
'cause your drunk and lost
All light is gone
Your arms spread like a cross 
And you're dreaming that the world 
Will soon fall apart  Topless girl in your gaze which is hazy
 Takes your dollar in the gutter without cigarettes 
Or wine you're hung over I was warned of your normal  Behavior and felt my life was too short to Consider your whack self

It's like this when you dip down
And you are boxin'
 Reeling against the ropes and you
Face some young Mexican
You're scrappin' your neck gets
 Snapped back, your nose have bled
You're thinkin' about a comeback 
But you're takin' it to the head
You little bastard, better watch your back
'Cause we're after your punk ass
By God, we're gonna jack it

Your journey is small time, and your show is over
You're 'bout as lucky as a three leaf clover 
And you're older, ho bag sceezer in her droopy, saggy skin
Who thought she was a model, but, in truth, a never-has-been
You both are fools, you and your cheap rooms, too
The cigar biting your lips the way love used to


Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group

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"Salsa Lyrics." STANDS4 LLC, 2017. Web. 29 Jun 2017. <>.

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