Lyrics Dynamite Sound - Jehst

Dynamite Sound

Bruce Dickinson: Easy, guys.
I put my pants on just like the rest of you --
one leg at a time.
Except, once my pants are on, I make gold records.
Alright, here we go.)
It’s the illest in the known universe
About to burst
I make a dead man jump up out the hearse
When I spout the verse
The man behind the red eyes glowing inside the cloud of herb
Yeah, we’re about to blaze
I’m a
Fire hazard in a crowded place
I’m a
Bio hazard straight out of the lab
My life battling
Trapped in a barrel of crabs
The rap lobster
I stay red like that
The monster, rip off your head like that
Then I head right back to location X
I got ecstasy pills and a crate of Becks
I got MDMA at the end of the day
When the moon turns black and I enter the stage
A4 venting the rage
Like guman empty the gauge
I tend to the page
The pen mightier than the blade
I might be mistaken
But I stay writing away
I’m the iceberg melting
You’re riding my wave
Fire make primates hide in the cave
Try test Jehst with the mind of an ape?
Nah, I’m at the next evolutionary
Very revolutionary stage
You could get buried in the grave
With a grave weight heavy on my brain
(You have got, what appears to be, a dynamite sound
You have got, what appears to be, a dynamite sound.)
You might see me in khaki fatigues and a green T
Sipping on green tea
Smoking the green tree
Putting my puma through the TV
In disgust
Pull out the breakbeats
Blow off the dust
Cess blow in the gust
Flow off the top like breast milk fresh from the bust
I got a spot like lust
Plus
I’m using my loaf for earning a crust
Burning the buds
Slurring and drunk
On street
Scraping the curb with my dunks
Cursing the government
Serving the skunk
Working the words for the worth of the drums
Mainly concerned with the funds
Like a first time father faced with the birth of a son
I’m like a bullet just burst from a gun
Hellfire turning the Earth to a Sun
Everything bun
Everything done
Lion in the jungle
Everything run!
Elephant stampeding through your precint
Old school in a tracksuit and a sheep skin
Stomping out these weaklings
Anne Robinson saying, 'Goodbye,' to the weak links
It’s a week in the life of Billy Brimstone
Dope beats for your iPod
(You have got, what appears to be, a dynamite sound
You have got, what appears to be, a dynamite sound.)
(Eric Bloom: Stop! Um, Bruce, could you come in here for a minute, please?
Bruce Dickinson: That… that was gonna be a great track.
Guys, what’s the deal?
Eric Bloom: Uh, are you sure that was sounding okay?
Bruce Dickinson: I’ll be honest.
fellas, it was sounding great.
But.
I could’ve used a little more cowbell.)