can't wait a minute longer Gonna teach you the art of making sense There's a devil on the road There's a devil on the road There's a devil on the road
Übersetzung: Ein. Art Of Making Sense.
the night again awake for the night again hanging ont he phone i cant wait a minute longer gonna teach you the art of making sense SOLO theres a
negation How can you see my face? What's to become of me? The art of reduction Stripped down through What seems defendable Scaled to bare revisions To stop making sense
still never snitch [Chorus x 2] I?m a goon Wild style goons in the room I?m a goon with the golden six-shooter and a mullet I?m a goon We the ones that
you stopped making sense to me Seems to me that it's all the same, time and time again Slowly, all that I believed in, turning into a lie To aim and
Leon Scott found a way to rotate a plate on a pin Creating tracings of vibrations made while it spins Time Frame 1877 to 1876 Using this Thomas Edison improved a
all of history Against us is the law With its immensity of strength and power Against us is the law! Police know how to make a man A guilty or an innocent
and strain What the fuck will tomorrow bring; luck or anthrax I stand back, hopin I'll make it through tomorrow [Verse 3: Nas] My skin is a art gallery
do but, I don't know how you feel about me is this not fairrrrrrr, fairrrrrr. hea-a-a-art lo-o-o-ove oh-o-o-oh, oh-o-o-oh, oh-o-o-oh hea-a-a-art lo-o
, I can't switch Now who callin the shots? It be the Planet once again, and if even I don't make dollars I can still make sense From the second you
seem to need a reference to get residence A reference to your preference to say i'm a good neighbour I trudge so judge me for my labour I walk in a bar
shits make me ill and never gave me a thrill These tunes always get played on the TV in exchange for a lucrative deal Music has to remain a way to change
be leaving in a second Sipping magic from a chalice, detached from the distractions At last, I can relax, looking past all of the action A fraction or a
, stuffin' pumps and smokin' blunts sells more records than "Pumps & a Bump" Violence is a new platinum gimmick Call it the double cross crossover A rose
might be fucking with the song of life Extend your deeper senses, there will be no fight At the never ending ocean of perfect insights 'Round your molecule beam with a
is Blessed with the art rhymes that's sharp like a circular saw Hit the floor like Dorf, who wants the war Then slide by my, lyrical driveby Chops rush, making
I used to cry but now I have to laugh because she's got that torment to a fine art smart like a foxy and craf-ty-as-a-cat i'm looking up as i'm lying
