Bastard, hap hazardous track master, put a beat on and words become lavishly crass daggers/
Service the discursive lurkers in the furthest mergers of a scary circus,
You spend days in your room to look perfect on the surface,
Dial up words but they're not in service
'cause it was an admired service-man
The crowd's with me, all according to plan
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
You looking for tools to write and share lyrics online?
You're in luck! Get started using RapPad >