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They call their style sick
And twists words in a way that hip-hop Sweden has never heard before
Bullied Kids With Automatic Weapons,
"Bullyed Kids With Automatic Weapons"
"Now you, you little bastard"
M! - Give back with the same coin, you get your usurious interest
B! - Doom will come soon, because he has been waiting
M! - Stop brooding hearru, there's nothing to get here
Ah! - Buries us in the dirt alone with a pad and pencil
Look what the cat has dragged in
What a beautiful portrait of you drinking the water you crawl in
Why should something so good be banned
Save the gunpowder for a single shot so no one can hug us at the end
Call and complain to the factory where they are made
Ask them to send a technician with the machine that destroys everything
Comes to Eden and promises to eat of the fruit
No point in sawing off the branch because the tree is rotten
Soon the fight song we gasp and cheer with happiness falls silent
My world is fire hydrants and lots of sick little jerks
The boat that arrives is loaded and adequately equipped
Then walks on the gangway is packed and enjoys the drink
You lower your standards like Henna
Imprisoned longing, I'm waiting for someone generous to donate a penny or five
Take what I have is herewith and I will hand over my money
I don't want to join next time, I'm going to stay at home
Check out what the byrack has pulled out on the new carpet
It is the truth that he has bombarded with airstrikes
So press the button, let's burn live
Our Viking funeral is broadcast complete with ship burning
The secret is closely guarded by men a centimeter
From crossing the line and fighting humanity
It probably feels mostly like, here people are gnawing for rent money
Intending to write an incendiary speech, but I mostly talk with the pencil
It may well happen that we are in the same boat, though
I think for sure the crops are greenest in the second bag
And those who walk over anyone for their own gain can
Forget everything else, but remember this rule
Karman appears with nasty boomerang effect
And panting down one's neck for life with musty breath
It can drag right into the forest, so you probably should
Build your ark on solid ground and look forward to a river
Look what the cats tear on the wall
If someone doesn't do something now, the whole thing will go to hell
Considered as a leader must stand as a madman
I have painted my soldiers with mushroom clouds in my lava lamp
Now you will see when the blue whale capsizes on the beach
And the bald man brushes his hair with the toothless comb
Who thinks what, who thinks like us
I know it's a fine line between enthusiasm and mythomania
I think the jycken has become daddy's little brat
Because these days it shits on the flag in the middle of the flag
He warns us and says: "You'll see when the lead runs out"
And it takes place in hell and peace breaks out
Victory flows into the sand, the sun is at its zenith and
Men march forward in eternal dust in battle with the Phoenix Bird
All according to order they carry the cross before the slope
So weighed down by sin that the prophet is nailed up again
Bullied kids with automatic weapons, get your fucking idiots
IYes, for all of you who don't know
What kind of lunatics are standing here
And if they play, we will ask to introduce them
*bullied kids*
*m.b.m.a.*
*bullied kids*
If anyone is wondering
We were all along
The beat crushes kneecaps
At the same time as villagers storm my mic booth
With torches and wooden stakes, threatening with razor blades
Falling into the trap, elders complain about how I look
I turn their grandchildren into criminals
And there you stand, glaring angrily at us
Submissive, abdomen understated
Your entire ego is soon torn apart
We wish the life out of you
Turns your skeleton into an exploded view
And your nervous system to meringue
We rule & set in this hell, instead of lucifer
And that applies to all places between tellus & jupiter
And all the fancy musicians who go to our gigs
Can, among other things, be treated as an illegitimate person
At a family reunion
So watch when worm-breeding is pushed overboard
Living cheerfully underpaid just like weed-smoking nurses
Hijacks careers, so watch out, the saw comes loose
Chicki, chicki, chicki, chicki - that's it
[hook]
We are the ones who always step on the piano
We are the ones who always trample the whole block
We are the ones everyone talks about but no one knows
Those who perverted Sweden & soiled the public home
That you are pimps & players is still only fictional
Your chicks are still as ugly as my life
You are just little lame novices
Snea because your fathers sell make-up & hug policemen
These jealous puppies, want to be a little sick
While we have rows as usual
Beat your scalp until the skull softens
So I refrain from exercising
As long as rappers come from their label
With abrasions on the knees
You thought you had something
But it is actually the state that owns it
Making grown men act like children in gun shops
Your studio is no longer booked, you swing out of sync
Makes trendsetters realize that they are not hip-hop anymore like Rusiak..
And now we are the ones keeping house here, and with that
Are we as big a threat to Swedish culture as IOGT
Berries were a popular drink, and now they are
Saw a table of contents for shit, and there you were
And I can make your text more secure for sure
You may think so, but your successful songs are easy to count
Homework slut, invites out and sucks cock
And devours the evidence like cannibalistic gluttonous coroners
We are ugly leeches, big as plow trucks
With an unpolished attitude among countless others
Because a lot has happened since I appeared
Rappers write good lyrics
So I think my pen has started to rattle left
You paint sugary pictures like fairy tales by elsa beskow
But your blueprint is from our oldest best-of
Cock smoking pack, sloping browbones, dropping discs
All of which rot in the hands of the final buyer
Carry around the rhyming blocks in a 3-ton container
Bad role model for images where we are seen as entertainers
So they call all our songs cold acts of violence
Because the style stands out like civilian guns in crowds magine if you could read
My thoughts about you and me
Imagine if you could read (He sits and watches you)
…You and me
(Up on a fucking roof, one-eyed, strapped, exploited, deaf, mute
Totally fucking useless really. But he sees you)
I look over you without sight, without indulgence
Oh a subjective, objective dumb staring but still seeing
Looking down on you in the streets, watchful over preoccupied habits
See you as you walk all kinds of determined habits
No one knows what's going on behind other people's masks
They breathe, although unaware of each other's vices
As she who regards the ground, stares breathlessly
And know that it exists, so that she doesn't fall out of control
Because everything is falling apart now, the evidence is in the joints
That's why she stands and bites her white knuckles
She has been scrutinizing a pitch black asphalt for ages
While the man walking by defends morality
He knows, but knows that no one else reads the signs
Among the garbage, the pigs, the dirty and the disgusting
He has been panting down evidence with an ink pen
So that someone else can understand all the discoveries
He wants to help as many women as he can before he disappears
With a knife in his inner pocket, and exorcism on his mind
I find monsters and demons, angels and people
Anxious thoughts and dreams and captivating
Imagine if you could read
My thoughts about you and me
There, a man sits on the cart, watching people being loaded on
He has the solution to every problem in his safe
He will save the world if the carriage only speeds up
While the blood clot in his brain is looking for something to latch on to
My glass eye takes the opportunity to examine everyone
Young man in dreads, with backpack and orange braces
If anything, tired of propaganda on concrete gray
In circulation, in city traffic to paint something for others
And transform surfaces, to color from grayscale
To hell with suggesting that he might be prosecuted
Beside, a woman with a bad habit since two years
The forearms covered with small wounds and needle marks
She believes “No one can help me, or love me
I'm going to lay in a bathtub with a razor blade
Because I know he is waiting for me, Jesus can save me
I will never recover, and I can imagine drowning myself”
Imagine if you could read
My thoughts about you and me
Imagine if you could read
My thoughts about you and me A person who thinks about suicide often feels isolated and alone and may experience that nothing and no one can help or understand their psychological pain. When one can see no other way to deal with this despair and pain, suicide may seem like the only way out. When everything feels hopeless, it can feel like there is no choice. • Loss of a loved one, a relationship, of work, status, money. And power
* A major disappointment, failed exam or exam, missed promotion, bullying, abuse
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They call their style sick
And twists words in a way that hip-hop Sweden has never heard before
Bullied Kids With Automatic Weapons,
"Bullyed Kids With Automatic Weapons"
"Now you, you little bastard"
M! - Give back with the same coin, you get your usurious interest
B! - Doom will come soon, because he has been waiting
M! - Stop brooding hearru, there's nothing to get here
Ah! - Buries us in the dirt alone with a pad and pencil
Look what the cat has dragged in
What a beautiful portrait of you drinking the water you crawl in
Why should something so good be banned
Save the gunpowder for a single shot so no one can hug us at the end
Call and complain to the factory where they are made
Ask them to send a technician with the machine that destroys everything
Comes to Eden and promises to eat of the fruit
No point in sawing off the branch because the tree is rotten
Soon the fight song we gasp and cheer with happiness falls silent
My world is fire hydrants and lots of sick little jerks
The boat that arrives is loaded and adequately equipped
Then walks on the gangway is packed and enjoys the drink
You lower your standards like Henna
Imprisoned longing, I'm waiting for someone generous to donate a penny or five
Take what I have is herewith and I will hand over my money
I don't want to join next time, I'm going to stay at home
Check out what the byrack has pulled out on the new carpet
It is the truth that he has bombarded with airstrikes
So press the button, let's burn live
Our Viking funeral is broadcast complete with ship burning
The secret is closely guarded by men a centimeter
From crossing the line and fighting humanity
It probably feels mostly like, here people are gnawing for rent money
Intending to write an incendiary speech, but I mostly talk with the pencil
It may well happen that we are in the same boat, though
I think for sure the crops are greenest in the second bag
And those who walk over anyone for their own gain can
Forget everything else, but remember this rule
Karman appears with nasty boomerang effect
And panting down one's neck for life with musty breath
It can drag right into the forest, so you probably should
Build your ark on solid ground and look forward to a river
Look what the cats tear on the wall
If someone doesn't do something now, the whole thing will go to hell
Considered as a leader must stand as a madman
I have painted my soldiers with mushroom clouds in my lava lamp
Now you will see when the blue whale capsizes on the beach
And the bald man brushes his hair with the toothless comb
Who thinks what, who thinks like us
I know it's a fine line between enthusiasm and mythomania
I think the jycken has become daddy's little brat
Because these days it shits on the flag in the middle of the flag
He warns us and says: "You'll see when the lead runs out"
And it takes place in hell and peace breaks out
Victory flows into the sand, the sun is at its zenith and
Men march forward in eternal dust in battle with the Phoenix Bird
All according to order they carry the cross before the slope
So weighed down by sin that the prophet is nailed up again
Bullied kids with automatic weapons, get your fucking idiots
Imagine if you could read
My thoughts about you and me
Imagine if you could read (He sits and watches you)
…You and me
(Up on a fucking roof, one-eyed, strapped, exploited, deaf, mute
Totally fucking useless really. But he sees you)
I look over you without sight, without indulgence
Oh a subjective, objective dumb staring but still seeing
Looking down on you in the streets, watchful over preoccupied habits
See you as you walk all kinds of determined habits
No one knows what's going on behind other people's masks
They breathe, although unaware of each other's vices Yes, for all of you who don't know
What kind of lunatics are standing here
And if they play, we will ask to introduce them
*bullied kids*
*m.b.m.a.*
*bullied kids*
If anyone is wondering
We were all along
The beat crushes kneecaps
At the same time as villagers storm my mic booth
With torches and wooden stakes, threatening with razor blades
Falling into the trap, elders complain about how I look
I turn their grandchildren into criminals
And there you stand, glaring angrily at us
Submissive, abdomen understated
Your entire ego is soon torn apart
We wish the life out of you
Turns your skeleton into an exploded view
And your nervous system to meringue
We rule & set in this hell, instead of lucifer
And that applies to all places between tellus & jupiter
And all the fancy musicians who go to our gigs
Can, among other things, be treated as an illegitimate person
At a family reunion
So watch when worm-breeding is pushed overboard
Living cheerfully underpaid just like weed-smoking nurses
Hijacks careers, so watch out, the saw comes loose
Chicki, chicki, chicki, chicki - that's it
[hook]
We are the ones who always step on the piano
We are the ones who always trample the whole block
We are the ones everyone talks about but no one knows
Those who perverted Sweden & soiled the public home
That you are pimps & players is still only fictional
Your chicks are still as ugly as my life
You are just little lame novices
Snea because your fathers sell make-up & hug policemen
These jealous puppies, want to be a little sick
While we have rows as usual
Beat your scalp until the skull softens
So I refrain from exercising
As long as rappers come from their label
With abrasions on the knees
You thought you had something
But it is actually the state that owns it
Making grown men act like children in gun shops
Your studio is no longer booked, you swing out of sync
Makes trendsetters realize that they are not hip-hop anymore like Rusiak..
And now we are the ones keeping house here, and with that
Are we as big a threat to Swedish culture as IOGT
Berries were a popular drink, and now they are
Saw a table of contents for shit, and there you were
And I can make your text more secure for sure
You may think so, but your successful songs are easy to count
Homework slut, invites out and sucks cock
And devours the evidence like cannibalistic gluttonous coroners
We are ugly leeches, big as plow trucks
With an unpolished attitude among countless others
Because a lot has happened since I appeared
Rappers write good lyrics
So I think my pen has started to rattle left
You paint sugary pictures like fairy tales by elsa beskow
But your blueprint is from our oldest best-of
Cock smoking pack, sloping browbones, dropping discs
All of which rot in the hands of the final buyer
Carry around the rhyming blocks in a 3-ton container
Bad role model for images where we are seen as entertainers
So they call all our songs cold acts of violence
Because the style stands out like civilian guns in crowds
As she who regards the ground, stares breathlessly
And know that it exists, so that she doesn't fall out of control
Because everything is falling apart now, the evidence is in the joints
That's why she stands and bites her white knuckles
She has been scrutinizing a pitch black asphalt for ages
While the man walking by defends morality
He knows, but knows that no one else reads the signs
Among the garbage, the pigs, the dirty and the disgusting
He has been panting down evidence with an ink pen
So that someone else can understand all the discoveries
He wants to help as many women as he can before he disappears
With a knife in his inner pocket, and exorcism on his mind
I find monsters and demons, angels and people
Anxious thoughts and dreams and captivating
Imagine if you could read
My thoughts about you and me
There, a man sits on the cart, watching people being loaded on
He has the solution to every problem in his safe
He will save the world if the carriage only speeds up
While the blood clot in his brain is looking for something to latch on to
My glass eye takes the opportunity to examine everyone
Young man in dreads, with backpack and orange braces
If anything, tired of propaganda on concrete gray
In circulation, in city traffic to paint something for others
And transform surfaces, to color from grayscale
To hell with suggesting that he might be prosecuted
Beside, a woman with a bad habit since two years
The forearms covered with small wounds and needle marks
She believes “No one can help me, or love me
I'm going to lay in a bathtub with a razor blade
Because I know he is waiting for me, Jesus can save me
I will never recover, and I can imagine drowning myself”
Imagine if you could read
My thoughts about you and me
Imagine if you could read
My thoughts about you and meI looking for best friend a woman i wish that to find true love i not here to mess with this i a real deal
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