Перевод: Воздуха. Lost сообщение.
: (Instrumental)
(Instrumental)
Fear is in the air thats the way they want it to be "Don't trust friends or neighbors everyone's your enemy!" Kidnapped children on tv fear runs through
's only light in the air By the time you get this message By the time you get this message By the time you get this message By the time you get this
Dodgin the [tech 4x N9ne 4x] Now here's a message Liberace may Chocolatate' take em I'ma rock na Playa, nigga fuck what I say Throw ya souls in the air
x N9ne 4x) Now here's a message Libedate may Chocolatate' take em I'ma rock na Playa, nigga fuck what I say Throw ya souls in the air like this Flash
ne 4x) Now here's a message Liberace may Chocolatate' take 'em I'ma rock na Playa, do the fuck what I say Throw ya souls in the air like this
mine Dodging the tech n9ne Now here's the message Liberate me Chocolata tay Imma rock Not play Do the fuck what I say Throw your souls in the air Like
la lumiere I'M LOST Pole hallucine I'M LOST Pour courir ventre a terre I'M LOST Brouillard et fumee I'M LOST Consommer consumer I'M LOST Recracher de l'air I'M LOST
Or dabble in the hood like fly weights Lock and load in the range with rock the globe Made any aim possible Til the leadbelly lost control In the hold
work Look, I don't give a fuck if your tryin to buy some purp Leave the phone conversation aint me tryin to twerk And don't text message, me hit me on
message Tonight I've chosen to play the one band the American Fascicrats don't want me to play Tonight I'm going off the air with the music of Hierophant
I go down, don't let me go slow If love was a word, that no one could follow It was a message that was written in air I'd rather be lost now than followin
through the air. The Weightless strings scintillating reminders of unknown struggles. Antediluvian fields caked with crimson. Encased in frigid air
is a mirage And on top of that, huh, nigga fuck y'all I'm the law of the land, got girls Uncle Nuggah I gaga gaga got girls on the command I got the government lost
the unwanted confrontations the parking violations and the boy with the arab strap listening to the dead air on the radio trying to decide which exit to take on the I-94 feeling kinda lost
in, I'm lucky to play the role of a drowning Jeff Buckley. I'm an OutKast in the state of Atliens, Now throw your hands in the air and do the hokey dance