ya see me dancin' on the grass. Ya say, "Who's that, and what are they doin'?", We're Mad Happy and we're happy to ruin, Your little strait world, Like
Tercüme: Mutlu Mad. Renegade Geeks.
Nail on the record make the beat sound raw. Needle was wore out, had to replace it. Face it; tape up the 'lectric wires, So as not to cause underground
Waitin' for the bus to come and take me To clean the smokestacks at the factory Where in fact I'm currently employed. Fantasizing a fantasy And devising
Then ya see me dancin' on the grass. Ya say, "Who's that, and what are they doin'?", We're Mad Happy and we're happy to ruin, Your little strait world
ya gonna think, gonna win this fight, Be the one in black or the one in white. Two sides to every story. That's the thing that's makin' me mad. The gory
love me, you love me, you love me. Those words you'll never mean. They sound as hollow as the deadest tree, In the dead of winter on the darkest night. You make me mad
Come on, come on, come on and take your mamma for a spin Get up, get in, pick it up pick it up pick it up The night is young, the whiskey and the bourbon
of sam. Ya never know when I'm gonna strike next. I don't even know why i like ghetto tricks I'm a serial wigga Gonna get bigga' Than Biggie Smalls. Fillin' mad
It's a loaded question like a loaded gun, When I ask if anybody wants to come, On a trip across the Universe, To where Jimi, Janis and Jaco rehearse.
Paint the white house pink. Keep it legal to think Everybody's got the right To live our own life. Might be that you wanna be a New York slut, Hollywood
