Search results for our america by big and rich

We've found 411 lyrics, 100 artists, and 100 albums matching our america by big and rich:


Albums:

Three Classic Albums Plus: The Wailing Buddy Rich/The Swinging Buddy Rich/Buddy and Swe (Buddy Rich) · Rich Sounds of Charlie Rich (Charlie Rich) · Our America: 15 Patriotic Songs by Our Children (Young American All-Stars) · Our Tired, Our Poor, Our Huddled Masses [2 Disc] (The Residents) · Our Tired, Our Poor, Our Huddled Masses [4 Disc] (The Residents) · The Big Big Big Big Bands: Vol. 12 (Hutchinson, Hutch) · The Big Big Big Big Bands, Vol. 6 (Hutchinson, Hutch) · Big Band Plays the Big Hits, Vol. 1/Up a Lazy River (Big Band Plays the Big Hits, Vol. (Si Zentner) · If He Is Protecting Our Nation... Then Who Will Protect Big Oil, Our Children? (Of Montreal) · If He Is Protecting Our Nation... Then Who Will Protect Big Oil, Our Children? (Of Montreal) – and 90 other albums »


low
And if I fall it's good to know
There's England and America

Showed our roots from time to time
And used it to ignite
Our wilder side to get
interest rate
'Til their rich bellies burst at the seams
Our lives nothing more to them
Than a snap of financial decision
Blinded by a TV screen
All
America, who's gonna save us, who's gonna save us now?

You and I; DVDs, SUVs and cyberspace
Flying blind, virtual reality is in our face
This Earth
Ad Libs 
Made in America 
Nineteen fifty nine 
Born down by the factories 
Cross the Jersey City line 
Raised on radio 
Just a jukebox kid 
I
could ask for more
We got no fancy things to show just a place to watch our children grow
So come on down...

We got no big fine car to drive and no fancy
could ask for more
We got no fancy things to show just a place to watch our children grow
So come on down...

We got no big fine car to drive and no fancy
Victor dreamed of America
With excitement like politics
And big time crime
And shopping malls and big band halls
So much in store
For his
(Burning our black skin)

Who's that janky-ass nigga with last?
Standing like a G pissing on America's flag
Dub C, the nigga from Westside
Westide Maad
Made in America, nineteen fifty nine, 
Born down by the factories, cross the Jersey City line. 
Raised on radio, just a jukebox kid, 
I was
world!
Therefore prejudice, by all means, should not exist, in music-ah!
There is only good, and better!
Therefore we present to you, our dear friends,
Our
a great big roar,
As America grew in peace and war.
And a million wheels went around and 'round.
The cities reached into the sky,
And dug down deep into
admit our mistakes
And then we open our eyes
Or nature succumbs to one last dumb decision
And america the beautiful
Is just one big subdivision
exploited
By the rich few
What's new?.

If you are not outraged
You haven't been paying attention
If you are not outraged
You haven't been listening
America.
Sitting on the fence, owned by America.

On their side American troopers and bombs
On our side the trash and consumer cons
We've been occupied,
called up
The shit I spit how shit get caught up
Get rid of mycrow bar before a person 14-5
The shit niggaz gotta do try 2 get high
As time fly by so
people got the money, we got nothin' but these big swingin' balls between our legs
Gonna take back america, gonna take our share, no we ain't gonna beg
big weed burn cool by the pack
Watch your back New Orleans is a fool like that
Out the blue you crooked punishments choose to jack
You might see me
Fighting the dragon
Forward mount zion

I and I a true born African
Leaders of our civilisation
This ya spiritual manifestations
Guided by the mighty fathers
Help save the youth of America
Help save them from themselves
Help save the sun-tanned surfer boys
And the Californian girls

When the lights go
C'mon bleed
C'mon bleed
Bleed for me 

In the name of world peace
In the name of world profits
America pumps up our secret police
America wants
be said in American headlines
Kennedy stretched and smiled
And got double crossed by lowlife goons and agents
Rich bankers with criminal connections
ones tend to emigrate
Like your psychotic big brother, who left home
For jobs in Holland, Munich, Rome
He's thick but he struck it rich, switch
on earth
We sell our souls, sell our souls for big wedge
Are we selling out tomorrow for today?
A surgeon checks your plastic on the telephone
A Casio
on earth
We sell our souls, sell our souls for big wedge
Are we selling out tomorrow for today?
A surgeon checks your plastic on the telephone
A casio
forever standby

[Chorus]

Now we can all celebrate
We can all harvest the rap artists of NWA
America target our rap market, it's controversy and hate