Lyrics:
York City blues
East side, West side lose
Throw me in the slam
Catch me if you can
Believe
That you're wearing
Tearing me apart
Safe
York City blues
East side, West side lose
Throw me in the slam
Catch me if you can
Believe
That you're wearing
Tearing me apart
Safe
the image of Alberta
The side street near Chicago
The grim beauty of Toronto
He is an artist
He is an artist
He is an artist painting sistine
the image of Alberta
The side street near Chicago
The grim beauty of Toronto
He is an artist
He is an artist
He is an artist painting Sistine
the cat hauled in
It's Phife Dawg from A Tribe Called Quest, let me begin
Like Chuck D, I got so much trouble on my mind
'Bout these no-talent artists
medication
We'll have more on this story as it develops"
"Shady Records recording artist Obie Trice
Has apparently survived a gunshot to the head
In what
Tune me in to the wild side of life
I'm an innocent young child sharp as a knife
Take me to the garretts where the artists have died
Show me
Tune me in to the wild side of life
I'm an innocent young child sharp as a knife
Take me to the garretts where the artists have died
Show me
When evening chores are over at our ranch house on the plain
And all I've got to do is lay around
I saddle up my pony and ride off down the trail
heart up (I'm so starstruck)
Baby, 'cause you blow my heart up
Groove, slam, work it back
Filter that
Baby, bump that track
Groove, slam, work it
Do you enjoy your sight inside?
Disconnect and let me drift,
Until my upside down is right side in.
Society must let the artist go,
To wander
Ridin' down the canyon, to watch the sun go down
A picture, that no artist ever could paint
White faced cattle lowin' on the mountain side
I hear
it's hate then this must be romance
Head first, baby
How the good time feelin' lingers
Oh, you can be alright
On the wrong side of the street
and seafarers,
Artists and dreamers
Who need to be close, close to the light
They need to be in danger of burning by fire
And I, I want to get there
I, I want
Oh, oh my darling
Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah
The artist pays the price
So you won't have to pay
If only we would listen
To what they have to say
I know you're thinking, thinking that it must be
Armor All flow cause it never get rusty
I ain't gotta say it, man dawg trust me
Bust somebody head
Oh, oh my darling
Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah
The artist pays the price
So you won't have to pay
If only we would listen
To what they have to say
Little Suzy Greenberg, with her head caved in.
Soon to let me drown beneath the undertow.
Aughta put that woman in a looney bin,
Cause you know
known to earn a dyke's love
Blind folks be like, somebody turned the lights off
Immense strength, poppin' out a muffin
Make famous artists that's dead
to come on and gobble a jimmy and... die
N9na be giving the remedy and why?
Critics are really the enemy and I
Can't stand the way they slam today's
will he?
And the two of you just walk through the door
You're a quick change artist
Always in the mood for a change
Baby you're a quick change
is
Get up on your feet and move side to side
Get up off your seat and just do it, just, just do it
[CHORUS]
Slam!
Everybody do the slam
the world that you got me
Why can't we be, Aw baby
I can't put my name on your kiss
And I can't speak your name from these lips
We froze and nobody knows
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