| Here’s a chain of golden bars
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| About racing stolen cars
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| While inhaling blunt cigars
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| And attaining wanted stars
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| But it’s okay
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| I’ll just pay off the DA who’ll drop the charge
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| I’m so high
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| Feel like I’ve left this place and gone to Mars
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| Pick up the payphone
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| And pick up the pace like Daytona
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| If a pedestrian gets in the way I’m afraid I’m going straight over
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| Take another hit until my vision’s glazed over
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| Then stick it into fifth like I was criticizing Beethoven
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| Listen if you’ve driven an Itali through Liberty City
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| And hit a few Krishnas you’ve pretty much witnessed a litany
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| Of miscellaneous misdemeanors, simultaneously
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| Taking aim at the police and taking them straight to the cleaners
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| Park a limousine across three lanes of traffic
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| Then lob a few grenades at all the vehicles amassing
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| Till there’s nothing but a stack of chassis smouldering and smoking
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| I’m a cross between a chauffeur and the Joker
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| Only joking
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| This is America
|
| Great, great, great America
|
| This city’s a hell of a
|
| State, shame, shame America
|
| This is America
|
| Mid-nineties America
|
| Through the satirical eyes
|
| Of a tiny team in Edinburgh
|
| This is America
|
| The greatest country in America
|
| This is America
|
| The place we love to be America
|
| This is America
|
| Great, great, great America
|
| This is America
|
| Great, great, great America
|
| Get out the way when I’m swerving 'cause I do not have the patience
|
| Liberty City citizens get pounded to the pavement
|
| Waving at the squad cars, not your typical criminal
|
| Destination’s not far, commandeering your vehicle
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| It’s like that
|
| Picking a pistol up in a box crate
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| Don’t fight back
|
| 'Cause I don’t really care what the cops say
|
| Take a left at West Kings
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| Use a beeper to text me, let’s see
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| These pesky messages every ten seconds
|
| We ride out, flee the scene
|
| Need to leave this joint
|
| Everybody so scared of me that they can be held at finger-point
|
| Check my F-19, of course it isn’t jacked
|
| Engine’s in the rear, yeah I got the horses in the back
|
| My rap sheet’s got a few stunts and bumps on it
|
| Blood’s on my hands from the firearm offenses, I’m busted
|
| A couple nights in the clink, now that’s a mean sentence
|
| It’s cool, fender-benders get buffed to clean finishes
|
| Fools get dusted up when I touch the clutch
|
| Got drugs to flush, you thugs get rushed
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| To the ER, I’m on a mission to murder you mooks pissing me off
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| By the time you’ve had your breakfast I’ve already stolen three cars
|
| Tires screech, sliding 'cross the city like a pair of skates
|
| Dodging a barrage of bullets at police barricades
|
| Man, that’s amazing, was almost fatal but damn we made it
|
| Maybe one day I’ll get my weight up and head to San Andreas
|
| This is America
|
| Great, great, great America
|
| This city’s a hell of a
|
| State, shame, shame America
|
| This is America
|
| Mid-nineties America
|
| Through the satirical eyes
|
| Of a tiny team in Edinburgh
|
| This is America
|
| The greatest country in America
|
| This is America
|
| The place we love to be America
|
| This is America
|
| Great, great, great America
|
| This is America
|
| Great, great, great America
|
| It’s a tough town
|
| Look at it from top-down
|
| Got the city on lockdown
|
| Took another cop out
|
| Back then we had no mini-map or GPS
|
| We’d just guess the best path and then thrash our beast GTS
|
| In the approximate direction of the yellow arrow
|
| Down the thrumming freeways and back alleys that were that narrow
|
| You could smack your wing mirrors back on either side
|
| But damage isn’t jack when you can jack a nicer ride
|
| I find the ambience of an ambulance’s siren kind of nice
|
| 'Cause it hides that fact my conscience is so silent
|
| But it’s all love when I’m tooled up in a school bus with a full clip
|
| I’m more intrusive than a fricking tooltip
|
| Calling bullshit on all this hypocrisy
|
| 'Cause forty-nine percent of people didn’t pick democracy
|
| What you see with me is what you get
|
| A fucking wreck that just collects two currencies: money and respect
|
| This is America
|
| Great, great, great America
|
| This city’s a hell of a
|
| State, shame, shame America
|
| This is America
|
| Mid-nineties America
|
| Through the satirical eyes
|
| Of a tiny team in Edinburgh
|
| This is America
|
| The greatest country in America
|
| This is America
|
| The place we love to be America
|
| This is America
|
| Great, great, great America
|
| This is America
|
| Great, great, great America |