Скачать с ютуб Cubbiebear - Kick Rocks в хорошем качестве

Cubbiebear - Kick Rocks

Cubbiebear - The Rape (2008) http://cubbiebear.bandcamp.com/album/...   / cubrock   http://www.myspace.com/asapcontra   / cubrock   http://Cubbiebear.net Lyrics: Where's your faces? The makeshift lifting up lines from basic I'm bet on better things while your wings only rock over laces It's a simple man lifted power lever pull blindly made decisions not clever enough to rule Diss me dog. I'm judged easy sleeve-bearing what shouldn't be But enough to ground any of your stupidity I live it literally with no speech, kid Wild in style but so called beneath it You never seen shit outside the horse blinder your man's white tee did. I count to three, miss. Your biting, playing wolf but sheepish Running with scissors when equilibrium can't peep it You flirting with baby fat still. You punch like a punk at will Grasping at rememberance and ignorance Blurting sentences when you can't figure shit This my little kids is metropolis on pop turned adjective Fit for friends with their neighborhoods up lost where the magic lives I'm tattled on by songs under par, little long leash gone Intersect in the streets of the city, getting giddy when cars come along Welcoming to the basement. Smoke filled sit and complacent Where men make mockeries out of emotion-shown faces The same love you let leak sense for blood when the predators taste bleak And to bed is the best cause resting straight sweeps you off feet I learned well you should see the old Josh the story tells And fake in a stance then to blend, migrating when majority fell At least I'm strong on a constant rocking science, scene similar The regular act is minimum, my mind only opens wrong for feminine But as long as these women live I'll fall free from my censorship And fuck every psyche that betters then numbing the title where emo lives You wanna lay shots when you rock, rocking bitter to go pop Push me pussies, Baltimore flat-lines to your EQ and I'll take what you got It's usual and approved that you're unsuitable I refuse any blemish you create on this music that you call beautiful And let it get dangerous, let you into the lives where the strangers live And see yourself hurt for the first time following the realm of fame when these kids kill Still... The moves are made for the luck of the fucked faces standing in placement Mention majority turning quotes into jokes adjacent I'm impatient with a team. They form to fit a label illiterately Playing in old titles, douching in bold "Hip Hop" spit it at me I'm never claiming on a constant, jack-strap in a box of nonsense And the little ones are playing with plastic with no possible progress This is not less than what's "Hot" Claimed when your firebox says via subtitles of who rocks genres I'm just being honest Ma Never had to play possum, Pa Not many to ground me. They ran with a gun in hand and I stand partially proud founding No clown. Call it how you see it. Arrogant or speechless But I'm not the one advocating skill by describing music as feces You glorify the contra I know Capital is a monster mind, hollow Ran by puppets who play right into where the little one's minds follow Running with chains where the slaves live Many men mocked when saying they made it showing smoke and mirrors when they follow in the realm of fame And these kids kill Still...