Lyrics:
Hey la, um de hey oh la
Said, hey la, um de hey oh le
Hey, hey, hey, hey oh la
Said hey, oh hey, feelin' good today
One day as I was a havin'
going on. And I'm as troubled by it as anybody else,
And I don't know any answers.
[TORI]
Happiness is a warm gun, happiness is a warm gun, Mama.
We lost our four big chances
Calvary Dallas Memphis LA
In two thousand years, four chances
A cross and a gun stole them away
A man called John loved
the sweetness of your years
By and by we'll all learn the taste of tears.
Open your eyes my growing son
There is hard work to be done
Follow your father to his
and by
That should keep you on your toes
They got a gun at your head
But you ain't necessarily playing their game
They can't resist
A Gypsy's Kiss
and by
That should keep you on your toes
They got a gun at your head
But you ain't necessarily playing their game
They can't resist
A gypsy's kiss
the man
Malaria and Cancer, various viruses and disease
Killing them by the millions but it doesn't solve the matter
If you can claim you're not guilty,
Mrs. E. Roosevelt never heard me shoot my gun
La, la, la
Mrs. E. Roosevelt didn't even knew I owned one
La, la, la
Somewhere between the cobblestone
And yes I always carry heat
I calm my nerves by smokin' weed
And yes I'm rockin' way too many
Tattoos than I really need
American flag's off in my sleeve,
Kiss my daughter on the cheek and I'm strapped as we speak
Dirty money get bloody, you still see the gun wounds
But what's funny are the ones that we
wanna protect democracy by killing the civilians
Funding a militia and sacrificing millions
While we condemn Hitler but we celebrate Columbus
So If we
people concerned
'Cause they know our return is confirmed by holding a gun firm
What's that in the distance?
You fucked slums raw 'til they gave birth
drummer beater
Brown sugar is sweeter beats by Peter
Like I said before, thump in my trunk
That's all I really need and
A bag of blue funk
La la la la la
Without a gun and a badge, what do ya got?
A sucker in a uniform waitin' to get shot
By me or another nigga
And with a gat it don't matter if he's
Don't need a reason
(We're) L.A.P.D.
The city of L.A. feels like a prison
With helicopters overhead and bullets whizzing by
Martial law ain't no
the CFA Franc crossed the Sahara when
The guns of the parisiens were acclaimed, praised and heralded
Like the era they drafted parents to go overseas for
Be-Coming Enemies of their own families.
What's going on?
Armageddon come you know we soon done
Gun by my side just in case I gotta rump
A boy on the side
The time has come to buy a gun and hold up
Raymond's shop
It looks like I will be going away
Going down la la la
Going down la la la la la
It's
gotta be a better way
You got to, you got to, you got to
You got to, you got to
Put the guns down, put the guns down
From Chicago to L.A
Houston,
the next stop is Dakar
La prochaine etape etait Dakar
Talk on the radio
Talk on the street
Talk of men with money loco from the heat
Talk about
doin', doin'
Oh, you see spy my mind, mind, mind
Even when I'm on the line, line, line
Coming ready with my guns and bullets
'Cause your body is gonna
Without a gun and a badge, what do ya got?
A sucker in a uniform waitin' to get shot
By me or another nigga
And with a gat it don't matter if he's
seems
That these roads here were paved to broken dream
Ain't no Las Vegas lights
Ain't no California coast
And I've seen a lot of both
But this shit
Drive-by eggings, plaguing LA
"Yo, you just got my little cousin, ese"
Sometimes hard-boiled, sometimes runny (Ray)
Comes from a chicken, not a bunny,
.jpg/300px-Malaria_Parasite_Connecting_to_Human_Red_Blood_Cell_(34034143483).jpg "Malaria!")
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