Lyrics:
same bad dreams
Just climb up on the table
Let me throw the switches
It's really a remarkable machine
And the switch is by your head
And when it's done
they're taking toll
If you've been bad, Lord, I bet you have
And you've not been hit by flying lead
You've not been hit by flying lead
You'd better
Grabbed that bitch by her hair
Drug her across the ground
And took her up to the highest diving board and tossed her down
Sorry coach, its too late
have enough time so instead
You default to these little biases
Which are determined by pattern
We're pattern recognition machines
Pattern recognition
morning
Every part of me like a bad machine
Breaking everything all the time
Every part of me has been wired to repeat
I've got a bad desire by design
the wings
Be there soon, grab your things
Driving fast, gotta keep it moving
Feel like I'm flying, bad machine
Life is hanging on by a string
Nothing can stop
my bad ways (real bad ass ways)
I've been a player for years, this ain't no rappers dream,
You leavin' messages, on her answering machine
I'm in
cute little divos
Or rich city guys i just want to enjoy (Uh)
By having a very good time
And behave very bad in the arms of a boy
There's a she-wolf in
flies by without you
So you can take my hand and we can make the most of right now
You can't stop me
My time's calling
A young machine
I am at full speed
around heard him and come down
To watch make the coal-steel ring "Lord! What a swinger!
Watch him make the coal-steel ring"
But the bad boys came up
make the cold steel ring, Lord what a swinger
Just listen to that cold steel ring
But the bad boss come up laughin' at John Henry
Said, "You full
Red wire: right temple
Black wire: left temple
Red wire: right temple
Black wire: left temple
There are times I think eternal life ain't such a bad
existing
Though surrounded only by bacteria an viruses
[The Angel: ]
How do you feel? Laa - la - laa, you were out of line!
[Machine: ]
What?
[The Angel: ]
times, just like the people next door
Bigger house, bigger 'fridge, bigger washing machine
'Cos you're a consumer'n, baby, you're the advertiser's dream
Speedin' through, two seater coupe
We ain't part of illuminati, we just the realest crew
We dream too, that's how Madonna got smashed by Peter Shue
You
The temple wreck is the mess that we went through dear
The temple wreck was a construct we've blown up
The temple wreck was our bad year
But you
with a whole new hatred for blondes
But bias? I hate all bi-es the same baby, come on
Excuse the pun, but bi- is such a broad statement
And I am
Don't you ever come down here looking for trouble
Cause trouble is the ladies' middle name
You may think you're bad but let me tell you somethin'
There
The spiders from my bad dreams are spinnin' in my washing machine
They were put there by Spirit for testing the old limits of me and my fears
what happens when Keisha Plum meets the Machine (the Machine)
Smokin' weed by the pound, devil's playground
Burnt mahogany, truffle oils, Persian
this truck now
Doctor said don't think he gonna make it
Family said make the funeral arrangements
Unplug the machine he's gone now
Then told my
doctors, selfish minds
Commands the transformation
His eyes see them faces, his brain serve the rules
All made by the killer
A machine was born
A Living
Just another bad machine
Tell your wife in your head lies
Something like a fire in night
Day by day the voices try
Opening my only eye
Oh, I saw you
You know sex 'em up a little bit
You know what I mean?
You're the honey that I see when I'm riding by
The one giving me a feeling that I can't deny
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