paroles de chanson Hardcore Chemical - La Coka Nostra
[Verse
1:]
~Ill
Bill~
I'm
the
problem
and
the
solution
The
revolution
won't
be
televised,
it's
too
gruesome
Too
gangster,
too
graphic
for
you
born-again
faggots
My
words
inspire
people
like
the
ten
commandments
I
floss
with
diamond
teeth,
SCUBA
dive
on
a
private
beach
Billy
Idol
smoke
chronic
with
Cheech
I
cut
your
tongue
out
for
talking
against
me
My
enemies'
grandchildren
will
remember
me
for
centuries
The
fine
line
between
insanity
and
genius
Murder
you,
I
give
your
reality
a
remix
Humanity's
beneath
us,
we
super
humans
Super
tyrants,
super
violent,
listen
to
the
way
my
nine
click
Right
before
I
pop
your
collar
The
most
hated
from
New
York
like
I
shot
your
mamma
Compare
me
to
Amazon.com
for
dollars
Canarsie
Osama,
riding
with
a?
of
martyrs,
fucker
[Chorus:]
~Everlast~
(2x)
Hardcore
chemical,
gangster
material
Tri-city
machine
bang
in
your
stereo
Put
em
up,
shut
em
down
Keep
it
raw,
riding
with
the
gutter
sound
[Verse
2:]
~Everlast~
The
thicker
the
plot,
the
quicker
the
shot,
the
liquor
and
pot
Got
me
higher
than
the
Denver
junkie,
shocking
the
monkey
Feeding
his
habit,
set
it
up,
cook
it
up,
tie
it
off
and
stab
it
Shoot
it
up,
feel
the
rush
then
throw
up
your
guts
Nod
out
for
a
while
cause
the
style
is
nuts
Like
I'm
in
Roca,
it's
fucking
Coka
These
other
cats
fake
it
with
that
baking
soda
This
is
it,
this
is
it,
yeah
I'm
back
on
the
shit
again
(Slaine:
Danny
Boy,
Danny
Boy,
you
ever
gonna
spit
again?)
C'mon
homie
you
know
me,
yeah
I
birthed
your
style
The
money-back
guarantee,
I
make
it
worth
your
while
Still
the
Cadillac
King,
I
don't
fuck
with
foreign
cars
American,
I
need
a
blowjob
and
a
porn
star
Nobody
move,
no
not
one
punk
I
fuck
around
and
pull
out
my
shotgun
pump
[Repeat
Chorus:]
(2x)
[Verse
4:]
~Slaine~
Yeah
dope
motherfuckers
I
came
back
to
spit
Move
with
the
hunger
fueled
by
a
lack
of
chips
When
I
lose
my
cool
and
shoot
it's
accurate
Give
me
some
room,
I
make
yous
move
back
a
bit
I
came
from
a
town
where
the
hope
can
drown
Bought
a
teaspoon?
from
the
dope
and
found
With
their
necks
tied
up
and
the
rope
around
Eighties
cars
overheated
broken
down
Car-thieving
heathen,
living
where
no
odds
or
even
Gambling
fist
fighters
watching
the
kid
bobbing
and
weaving
Everybody
scheming,
we
all
deceiving
I
wrote
my
words
on
the
walls
of
mausoleums
Now
I
stand
in
a
position
of
strength
So
I
speak
for
those
who
can't,
I
spit
what
I
think
I'm
from
the
city
where
motherfuckers
were
sticking
the
pigs
I
rep
the
Irish
street
cats
and
the
micks
in
the
clink,
c'mon
[Repeat
Chorus:]
(2x)
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