Deep Space 9mm Lyrics
| Song | Deep Space 9mm |
| Artist | El-P |
| Album | Fantastic Damage |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : El-P | |
| One two | |
| Get behind the walls of new Roma, wanna buy the farm | |
| But the land's not yours to own? | |
| Who owns Police? Who holds faux green on a sandy beach? | |
| Blood beach | |
| Dance with a man he starts clutching, he ugly | |
| Punks hung halo teach | |
| Hugged by the math with the cable reach | |
| A hundred and sixty-six channels lit | |
| To train that animal shit | |
| Where the mind's eye redefined | |
| Where's God? | |
| Buy a car, Kick tires | |
| Back in Eighty-Six I lived | |
| With a four-course artistry | |
| Metal ones took turns showin' off colors and shit | |
| Like I invaded the mating dance ritual | |
| Criminal now | |
| Wild things defined beautiful under my power | |
| El Producto flash-fest-iss | |
| Mother****ers be like, "Ow, why haven't we left yet" | |
| Blithering sideway twang, the youth and brain management troupe | |
| The man is like BOOOP | |
| You can't touch the Krush Groove | |
| I live by the lunch table | |
| Touched fables | |
| Ducked labels | |
| Lookout for the one he'd abide with the terrible stables | |
| Signed to Rawkus | |
| I'd rather be mouth ****ed by Nazis unconscious | |
| Callin' all bomb threats | |
| Radio re-activated, caress | |
| Under hella-ified missle defense | |
| Fenced in, better blame it on fame shit and grin | |
| Walk with a bag full of kittens | |
| Take it to the river and throw yourself in | |
| In about four seconds the ether will begin to leak | |
| Who wanna hold hands with this sicko malnutritionist | |
| Soaked in newspeak? | |
| Dissolve into the syncopated fragments of vinyl | |
| splashed on loose leaf | |
| We can embrace on the business end of my face first | |
| Joe vs. the Volcano suicide beef | |
| Dance with the vinyl monster | |
| Devil in a blue skyline with clean conscience | |
| Save the gesture | |
| But can't save the children, weren't worth the effort | |
| I'm a Caveman | |
| Your modern ways frighten and confuse me | |
| I watch your spirit box with the blinking lights and think | |
| Are those little people trapped in that box? (No, Caveman) | |
| But I do know converted mic digital 8-bus Mackie Avalon compression | |
| Combined with 8-step effected | |
| Dirty words paralyze words and infect shit | |
| Infectious | |
| Insofar as the ineffectual bed for elections | |
| Development arrested | |
| Trapped in the Cuckoo's nest | |
| Looking for the nexus | |
| If it's wild like that y'all found | |
| infrared scope in the clutch of a tyrant | |
| New World lullaby Sirens | |
| Stuck migrants, bust 'em by violence | |
| It's all bad timing | |
| Getting merked on a Tram over Roosevelt Island | |
| You think that's spacey? | |
| Deep Space 9 millimeter, son, keep smiling | |
| This is for the fringes and such | |
| My generation just sit like dust | |
| Feed 'em off of us and ask what I trust | |
| Tell these stories, I'm right here holdin' my nuts | |
| Right here holdin' my nuts | |
| Right here holdin' my nuts | |
| Right here holdin' my nuts | |
| Right here holdin' my nuts | |
| This is for the fringes and such | |
| My generation ain't friends with slugs | |
| Thank god for the drugs and drums | |
| Tell these to read it, I'll be right here hidin' from guns | |
| Right here hidin' from guns | |
| Right here hidin' from guns | |
| For the love of god run... |
| zuo ci : ElP | |
| One two | |
| Get behind the walls of new Roma, wanna buy the farm | |
| But the land' s not yours to own? | |
| Who owns Police? Who holds faux green on a sandy beach? | |
| Blood beach | |
| Dance with a man he starts clutching, he ugly | |
| Punks hung halo teach | |
| Hugged by the math with the cable reach | |
| A hundred and sixtysix channels lit | |
| To train that animal shit | |
| Where the mind' s eye redefined | |
| Where' s God? | |
| Buy a car, Kick tires | |
| Back in EightySix I lived | |
| With a fourcourse artistry | |
| Metal ones took turns showin' off colors and shit | |
| Like I invaded the mating dance ritual | |
| Criminal now | |
| Wild things defined beautiful under my power | |
| El Producto flashfestiss | |
| Mother ers be like, " Ow, why haven' t we left yet" | |
| Blithering sideway twang, the youth and brain management troupe | |
| The man is like BOOOP | |
| You can' t touch the Krush Groove | |
| I live by the lunch table | |
| Touched fables | |
| Ducked labels | |
| Lookout for the one he' d abide with the terrible stables | |
| Signed to Rawkus | |
| I' d rather be mouth ed by Nazis unconscious | |
| Callin' all bomb threats | |
| Radio reactivated, caress | |
| Under hellaified missle defense | |
| Fenced in, better blame it on fame shit and grin | |
| Walk with a bag full of kittens | |
| Take it to the river and throw yourself in | |
| In about four seconds the ether will begin to leak | |
| Who wanna hold hands with this sicko malnutritionist | |
| Soaked in newspeak? | |
| Dissolve into the syncopated fragments of vinyl | |
| splashed on loose leaf | |
| We can embrace on the business end of my face first | |
| Joe vs. the Volcano suicide beef | |
| Dance with the vinyl monster | |
| Devil in a blue skyline with clean conscience | |
| Save the gesture | |
| But can' t save the children, weren' t worth the effort | |
| I' m a Caveman | |
| Your modern ways frighten and confuse me | |
| I watch your spirit box with the blinking lights and think | |
| Are those little people trapped in that box? No, Caveman | |
| But I do know converted mic digital 8bus Mackie Avalon compression | |
| Combined with 8step effected | |
| Dirty words paralyze words and infect shit | |
| Infectious | |
| Insofar as the ineffectual bed for elections | |
| Development arrested | |
| Trapped in the Cuckoo' s nest | |
| Looking for the nexus | |
| If it' s wild like that y' all found | |
| infrared scope in the clutch of a tyrant | |
| New World lullaby Sirens | |
| Stuck migrants, bust ' em by violence | |
| It' s all bad timing | |
| Getting merked on a Tram over Roosevelt Island | |
| You think that' s spacey? | |
| Deep Space 9 millimeter, son, keep smiling | |
| This is for the fringes and such | |
| My generation just sit like dust | |
| Feed ' em off of us and ask what I trust | |
| Tell these stories, I' m right here holdin' my nuts | |
| Right here holdin' my nuts | |
| Right here holdin' my nuts | |
| Right here holdin' my nuts | |
| Right here holdin' my nuts | |
| This is for the fringes and such | |
| My generation ain' t friends with slugs | |
| Thank god for the drugs and drums | |
| Tell these to read it, I' ll be right here hidin' from guns | |
| Right here hidin' from guns | |
| Right here hidin' from guns | |
| For the love of god run... |
| zuò cí : ElP | |
| One two | |
| Get behind the walls of new Roma, wanna buy the farm | |
| But the land' s not yours to own? | |
| Who owns Police? Who holds faux green on a sandy beach? | |
| Blood beach | |
| Dance with a man he starts clutching, he ugly | |
| Punks hung halo teach | |
| Hugged by the math with the cable reach | |
| A hundred and sixtysix channels lit | |
| To train that animal shit | |
| Where the mind' s eye redefined | |
| Where' s God? | |
| Buy a car, Kick tires | |
| Back in EightySix I lived | |
| With a fourcourse artistry | |
| Metal ones took turns showin' off colors and shit | |
| Like I invaded the mating dance ritual | |
| Criminal now | |
| Wild things defined beautiful under my power | |
| El Producto flashfestiss | |
| Mother ers be like, " Ow, why haven' t we left yet" | |
| Blithering sideway twang, the youth and brain management troupe | |
| The man is like BOOOP | |
| You can' t touch the Krush Groove | |
| I live by the lunch table | |
| Touched fables | |
| Ducked labels | |
| Lookout for the one he' d abide with the terrible stables | |
| Signed to Rawkus | |
| I' d rather be mouth ed by Nazis unconscious | |
| Callin' all bomb threats | |
| Radio reactivated, caress | |
| Under hellaified missle defense | |
| Fenced in, better blame it on fame shit and grin | |
| Walk with a bag full of kittens | |
| Take it to the river and throw yourself in | |
| In about four seconds the ether will begin to leak | |
| Who wanna hold hands with this sicko malnutritionist | |
| Soaked in newspeak? | |
| Dissolve into the syncopated fragments of vinyl | |
| splashed on loose leaf | |
| We can embrace on the business end of my face first | |
| Joe vs. the Volcano suicide beef | |
| Dance with the vinyl monster | |
| Devil in a blue skyline with clean conscience | |
| Save the gesture | |
| But can' t save the children, weren' t worth the effort | |
| I' m a Caveman | |
| Your modern ways frighten and confuse me | |
| I watch your spirit box with the blinking lights and think | |
| Are those little people trapped in that box? No, Caveman | |
| But I do know converted mic digital 8bus Mackie Avalon compression | |
| Combined with 8step effected | |
| Dirty words paralyze words and infect shit | |
| Infectious | |
| Insofar as the ineffectual bed for elections | |
| Development arrested | |
| Trapped in the Cuckoo' s nest | |
| Looking for the nexus | |
| If it' s wild like that y' all found | |
| infrared scope in the clutch of a tyrant | |
| New World lullaby Sirens | |
| Stuck migrants, bust ' em by violence | |
| It' s all bad timing | |
| Getting merked on a Tram over Roosevelt Island | |
| You think that' s spacey? | |
| Deep Space 9 millimeter, son, keep smiling | |
| This is for the fringes and such | |
| My generation just sit like dust | |
| Feed ' em off of us and ask what I trust | |
| Tell these stories, I' m right here holdin' my nuts | |
| Right here holdin' my nuts | |
| Right here holdin' my nuts | |
| Right here holdin' my nuts | |
| Right here holdin' my nuts | |
| This is for the fringes and such | |
| My generation ain' t friends with slugs | |
| Thank god for the drugs and drums | |
| Tell these to read it, I' ll be right here hidin' from guns | |
| Right here hidin' from guns | |
| Right here hidin' from guns | |
| For the love of god run... |
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