| Man talking:
|
| The old cynicism is gone
|
| We have faith in our ears
|
| We’re optimistic, as to what becomes of it all
|
| It really boils down to our ability to accept
|
| We don’t need pessimism
|
| Teenage death, girls want dick not words
|
| Flicks, got hearse
|
| Tits, not hers
|
| Went to the park at dark and shot birds
|
| With a Mauser
|
| Get a lot stirred
|
| Fuck gimmicks
|
| Then quickly abort the duck image
|
| Occupy the same space that you can’t fuck with it
|
| I’m writing words tasting
|
| Like the most anticipated works of violence since Freddy vs. Jason
|
| I’m worth patience, a worth in greater market
|
| So I can shoot up your chest like them little paper targets
|
| I donate sluts, never pitch in to pay tricks
|
| How’d you get your shit on billboards? |
| Bitch, glitch in the Matrix
|
| And that’s beside five flies in conformness kids
|
| That may or may not know what a Cage performance is The latest installment is not to unplug you
|
| But if you don’t get this by the 13th, listen and fuck you!
|
| Fuck this rap shit, it’s what you weigh in the street (right)
|
| Don’t shit where you sleep, better lay with your heat (tonight)
|
| All praise D.O.V. |
| cause that’s who’s comin'
|
| Lookin’for huntin’with the gunnin'
|
| Watch your backs are runnin'
|
| It’s like he’s already dead if you’re saying he sleeps (right)
|
| They’re comin’real deep and they’re playin’for keeps (tonight)
|
| Run for the hills cause they’re comin’for kills
|
| You got fuck to loose, you got nothing to bill
|
| It’s like money is God, y’all worship church rappers
|
| I cut Rock 'N'Roll High School with purse snatchers
|
| If the clocks are all evil then Orange’s guns peal
|
| Drop food on my fr-enemies like Donald Rumsfield
|
| I run with the ropes
|
| Spent to much on choke
|
| Had a PCP overdose and I still smoke
|
| Can’t get locked down how my brindle enters
|
| And won’t come down like New York’s two burning middle fingers
|
| Street journalist
|
| Even written down to this
|
| Most of my rap colleagues sittin’down to piss
|
| Bookstore revolution
|
| Televised execution
|
| Where I put my dip Newports at Susan
|
| What if Kurt were to put a hole in Courtney chest
|
| That frame of mind wouldn’t caught me a west
|
| For Cage is anarchist games evolved
|
| While the most wild mannered piss, brains dissolve
|
| Reading, study while my boots bloody
|
| So fuckin’milky her marginised loops love me And a company of wolves they respect I eat first
|
| But doctors can’t stitch up for your stomach leak bursts
|
| Mix max with half-wits
|
| The task flips
|
| In Middle Town they’ll shoot you over a fuckin’trash bitch
|
| Grew up with no pop and a crazy hoe
|
| That’s why I need no play on commercial radio
|
| Unravel the mind, around the room frozen sides
|
| Sheep to tired to fight, close your eyes
|
| Put vanilla dutches in the sky, when the Time’s on the table
|
| Knife to the tits, 9 to the navel
|
| It’s like a self-righteous path to line these pockets
|
| I got sideways knowledge, doll, at least he’s honest
|
| Stick a fork in his tail, then jux the crowd with it If there’s bite marks on my dick if think your girl’s mouth did it |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Teenage Death , by - Cage. Song from the album Movies For The Blind, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп