Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Wogs Will Walk, artist - Cornershop. Album song Handcream for a Generation, in the genre Альтернатива
Date of issue: 31.03.2002
Record label: Wiiija
Song language: English
Wogs Will Walk |
We’re gonna get on down now |
We’re gonna get on down |
We’re gonna get on down now |
We’re gonna get on down |
Pass me the laser beam |
And let me wipe the wretched out clean |
Pass me the laser beam |
And let me wipe the devil men clean |
Broad Street’s a racket, got no time for the piper’s role |
Second round the corner, I let the Jackie Graham go |
The windows open onto Soho Road |
People by the Pakis punctuated by the brown atoll |
Broader than Bombay, they’re clogging up the slow lane |
I meet Rajesh, Roshan, and KPC |
His eligible sons he calls the three degrees |
On his bike he shouts request to me |
Ten of them, sixty of these |
Bested by no word, his shout is my guarantee |
Pass me the laser beam |
And let me wipe the wretched out clean |
Pass me the laser beam |
And let me wipe the devil men clean |
It’s a world wide web, wog’s world war |
Rockford rock against the clean four-by-fours |
To get a little, wog’s got to give a lot |
Wogs will walk and the wait is hard |
Well this one’s going out to the u-federation |
N-O-G, Wigan’s ovation |
The wog of the zero invention |
Bit between the GW intervention |
Passing the catch, I do kick the gear stack |
Pass me the laser beam |
And let me wipe the devil men clean |
Born in the year of the marketing manager |
The record stack I sweep up for the janitor |
A hip-hop brick to the overseas dick |
I understand guns in the A&R office |
Wogs will walk the Mowgli walk |
Salt marches and the wait is hard |
Wearing out the top soil, passing the parked cars |
Packed lunched, the wog is non-stop |
I hail a cab for the Pan Am to Dehli |
Greeted by Bubbley Kaur, the walk-in jewellery store |
Head for, get onto the GT road |
Now a driver like Barry G should be driving earth |
The last leg of Little Riding Hood |
I exchange with pictures of Sam Fox |
L.E.D. |
quartz (bionic) you fathered like a pocket watch |
One ton of tinsel, a chauffeur and a Parker pen |
To this reactor light, I throw in a Jackie Graham |
Pull in the mud path at Terminal One |
London customs on the lookout for a wog on the run |
They ratchet my case open as if it was a Fanta can |
All they see is authentic pirate cassette tapes |
German elastic produced on Tokyo dub plate |
Keep |
Japan on the map-an |
Rolex rollicks, attention, attention |
Wogs will walk |
And this time the wait is about twelve pounds |