Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Bad Rap (Who You Tryin To Kid, Kid?), artist - Steve Taylor. Album song The Best We Could Find, in the genre ПопDate of issue: 31.12.1987
Record label: Sparrow
Song language: English
Bad Rap (Who You Tryin To Kid, Kid?) |
| Now L. A. hip and N. Y. chic |
| Been dancin' lately cheek to cheek |
| While Midwest good ole boys like me |
| Should all be playing catch-up, see |
| Subscribe to the Village Voice in throngs |
| And guess who gigs at Madame Wong’s |
| Well drop your pens and pant designs |
| And drop six words in your open minds |
| Who you tryin' to kid, kid? |
| To the Hollywood school |
| Teaching everything’s cool |
| Who you tryin' to kid, kid? |
| To the Greenwich mockingbird |
| Who has gotta have the last word |
| Got your head together now? |
| Got a way that’s better now? |
| Who you tryin' to kid, kid? |
| (Say what, bad rap, uh huh) |
| You save the whales |
| You save the seals |
| You save whatever’s cute and squeals |
| But you kill «that thing» that’s in the womb |
| Would not want no baby boom |
| Good, bad, laugh and scorn |
| Blame yourself for kiddie porn |
| Convenience is the law you keep |
| And your compassion’s ankle deep |
| Who you tryin' to kid, kid? |
| Wrap it in a fine philosophy |
| Who you tryin' to kid, kid? |
| But your bottom line still says «me me me» |
| Got your head together now? |
| Got a way that’s better now? |
| Who you tryin' to kid, kid? |
| You’ll march if all the streets are full |
| A two bit closet radical |
| No time to check the end result |
| Expedience is your catapult |
| Convictions make your skin to crawl |
| You act like you’re above it all |
| You say faith is a crutch for a mind that’s closed |
| You guzzle your crutch and shove it up your nose |
| Who you tryin' to kid, kid? |
| To my left wing band with their head in the sand |
| Who you tryin' to kid, kid? |
| To the «might makes right» playin' chicken (delight) |
| Got your head together now? |
| Got a way that’s better now? |
| Who you tryin' to kid, kid? |
| Can’t understand those Christians |
| So you type us all in stereo |
| They’re hypocrites |
| They’re such a bore |
| Well come on in |
| There’s room for one more |
| So now you’re mad |
| Who is this guy |
| To bake us all in one big pie? |
| You think I care |
| Forget it, hon |
| You’ve just been shot |
| With your own gun |
| (Bad rap, uh huh) |
| Sugar Hill’s gonna need a pill |
| Grandmaster Flash gonna get a rash |