paroles de chanson Misdirected Hostility (Live) - 311
Now
I'm
not
the
type
to
just
act
like
I
know
Puttin'
on
an
angle,
puttin'
on
a
show
Speaking
on
nothing
makes
you
a
stunt
I'll
tell
you
right
here,
yo
I
won't
front
I
cross
the
T's
and
skip
non-legitimacies
Or
else,
please
I
cannot
handle
all
the
negative
vibe
merchants
Is
that
all
you
have
in
you,
perchance?
So
much
angst
and
pain
it's
so
wack
You
should
take
a
tip
from
the
one
Frank
Black
Play
some
pachinko,
play
some
parcheesi
'Cuz
all
the
angst
shit
is
just
cheesy
It's
the
311
bliss,
too
smooth
for
pissed
Lyrics
talkin'
loud
again,
yeah
we
are
the
party
men
Cosmetics
that
you
fretted,
we
sport
the
high
aesthetic
Here
go
rap
kickin'
the
dazzled
crazy
mathematic
I
am
what
I
am,
mix
some
old
school
jams
Onto
tape
'cuz
the
party's
in
the
crates
I
scan
Step
into
the
realm,
whatcha
gonna
do?
Give
the
party
people
something
funky
to
listen
to
Misdirected
hostility
(that's
what
you
got,
see)
Misdirected
hostility
(that's
what
you
got,
see)
Misdirected
hostility
(that's
what
you
got,
see)
Misdirected
hostility
(that's
what
you
got)
Bodyrock,
pop
and
lock,
here's
an
example
Boulevard
chrome
beats
always
ampin'
your
temple
Punks
get
got
in
the
age
of
hip
hop
It's
just
begun
like
stolen
bikes
on
the
blacktop
Born
to
sing
a
lyric
immaculately
concepted
No
strain
in
your
game
if
your
game
is
respected
Come
as
you
are,
radio
star
Drown
out
the
hatred
with
a
rhyme
and
a
little
guitar
Dispatched
when
rap
shattered,
the
glass
of
radio
access
May
we
turn
some
soul
on
their
rhythmless
dances?
You
know
the
time
and
they'll
know
the
scoop
They'll
say
it
was
a
rhyme
and
a
beat
of
a
rap
group
Your
rhymes
have
been
outmoded
Your
rhymes
have
been
outmoded
Your
rhymes
have
been
outmoded
Your
rhymes
have
been
outmoded
Your
rhymes
have
been
outmoded
so
just
quit
your
bellyachin'
You're
saying
that
you're
tortured,
give
me
a
fuckin'
break
and
Maybe
take
out
the
source
of
your
disparin'
What
do
I
mean?
Kick
the
fuckin'
heroin
I
speak
from
experience,
because
I
didn't
see
clearly
once
Acting
like
a
dunce
In
1989
I
was
cocaine
and
Jim
Beam
But
now
it's
'95
and
I'm
ginseng
Misdirected
hostility
(that's
what
you
got,
see)
Misdirected
hostility
(that's
what
you
got,
see)
Misdirected
hostility
(that's
what
you
got,
see)
Misdirected
hostility
(that's
what
you
got)
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