on skinny, come on fatty Shake it Martha, shake it Larry Shake it Mr. Coronary You gotta dance, dance Come on and dance, dance Gotta dance till you'
on skinny Come on fatty Shake it Martha Shake it Larry Shake it Mr. Coronary You gotta dance dance Come on and dance dance Dance til you're outta breath
Перевод: Элис Купер. Dance себе смерть.
Come on skinny Come on fatty Shake it Martha Shake it Larry Shake it Mr. Coronary You gotta dance dance Come on and dance dance Dance til you're outta
Try to fight it, try to deny it Stupid you will feel What I do, I do it well Shooting from the hip, yeah boy shoot to kill Half a breath left on my death
try to fight it, try to deny it stupid you will feel what I do, I do it well shooting from the hip, yeah boy shoot to kill half a breath left on my death
who, times killing you. Stupid. you need to sweat yourself. don’t sweat nobody else. I got my own perspiration check the conversation. Minutes away, your ass is through dealing. Ha, smack yourself
Heartache's knocking on her door Shadows dance outside her window Tears keep falling on the floor As the world around her crumbles If you wanna save her
the Indian dance to bring our reign back "What's up with you and Jay, man, are y'all ok man?" They pray for the death of our dynasty like Amen R-r-r-right
Try to fight it, try to deny it Stupid you will feel, what I do, I do at will Shooting from the hip, yeah boy shoot to kill Half a breath left on my death
high Just get yourself high, just get yourself high Just get yourself high, just get yourself high Just get yourself high, just get yourself high Just get yourself
Nasty bitches, around the world, I wrote this rhyme for you You might not like my rap, but I'm tellin' you bitch it's true So much death in the Oakland
win, they say you a sin, but in the end They jump on the bandwagon and dance to the band playing Skinny-ass pants sagging, it's only yourself you playing
fight it, try to deny it Stupid you will feel What I do, I do it well Shooting from the hip, yeah boy shoot to kill Half a breath left on my death
Why niggaz wanna clock me? Like that dance called the Chachi Don't they know I break motherfuckers into parts like Rocky Part I, part II, part III, niggaz
