click the click and watch y'all hit And realize that we started some proper shit Mr.AMG the most clever lyricist Hi-C the pearl rabbit never fear a bitch K and
made my bed, I lie on it And hold my head up high My disbelief, my fake redemption My twentieth century My holy war, my self indulgence My twentieth century
ve made my bed, I lie on it And hold my head up high My disbelief. my fake redemption. My twentieth century. My holy war. my self indulgence. My twentieth century
Across the open plains (they venture) And through the darkest and deepest of forests Over vast mountains and mighty rivers (and streams) While their
survive Low low low Low low low Low low low Low low low This race to space we're on to release ourselves from the weights of gravity Our highs are higher
land We've got high tech people with low tech souls And dot com Wi-Fi Internet polls We curse the wind and use the sun to tan And bury nuclear waste
pop radio on Dedicate my girl a song Gone are days of simple things Got to buy baby diamond rings Keep it simple just don't brag Got to be high speed low
poets turn receivers For he who knows not, the realms in which we occupy Earth, the galaxies, universe the most high alive and outside Respect for living
mind I had And whenever I was sad I had my friends And now it can be told I'm a quarter of a century old But I'm half a century high In the tube where
' like fuck in a green house Rush and cut chain cream out blow steam out Rare like Guccis in ears goose bears Skied up lovin' all my Deustch years Coat for broadway Hundred and
that I'm what a nigga kill for Steal for, gotta man and they still want For real though, better tell them they don't feel low There's a new broad in the dough and
land I see Scotland of the high mountains And the empty acres Flying low across the moorland lochs The forests and the glens But it's a wounding and
low When everything goes wrong I don't get too high When everything's alright I know i'm always safe Tho' i don't play that way I listen to my soul And
a mountain, but I could not get me high All I could get me was low Really marked down in your sale of the century And we all know That everything must go And
holding up the walls God dammit Im on the floor Good Lord cant you see me getting down on a hoe And she drop it so low she sitting down on the floor
it hard, in crack we trust Why Andrew Jackson look high as fuck on the 20, G answer Cocaine been around for centuries Since I'm young, black and rich,
[I. Mass Hysteria] Sing us the song of the century That sings like American eulogy The dawn of my love and conspiracy Of forgotten hope and the class
smoke that rises from our stone will turn this world to dust High and low, above below We look in places no one goes To boil the base and to transmute