Bad Brains drop
They rip you like a Sunday paper
Glass clear
Hold me like a suicide ranger in his lair
A suicide ranger-uh-uh-ah
Down on Saint Kit's and I was lost in a haze of
Tax shelters and Mardi Gras and polluted bays, but
My Cadillac mind recalls a time that you walked around an island forty times
Tell you whispers from the natives in their two paying cars
Angel got to see where you hide
She might know when you die
And there's no place to get up
From the rooftop gambler
A weekends Costa Rica with ocho chicas
And the bars are never closes when you got the frozen noses
Of Jeff and it is the soundtrack I've got to get a heart attack
Working hard, hours and the feelings down on your kneeling
Whisper to the truths and when they come their going to hide you around
There going to show me to hide
Like a rooftop gambler
Paroles2Chansons dispose d’un accord de licence de paroles de chansons avec la Société des Editeurs et Auteurs de Musique (SEAM)
