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OK everybody, we're the hi-tech gurus, |
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All the rage, always on the front page news, |
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TV and video, here to go-go, |
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On Radio P |
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WEI, turn it on and turn it up high, |
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Like a ten truck, don't give a ****, |
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And if you don't like the |
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Poppies that's your hard luck... |
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We cut and strut with military precision, |
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All cards are marked; unanimous decision! |
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It's finger-licking finger-clicking, |
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My mike sounds nice and the beatbox ticking, |
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Squeal like an eel, squirm like a worm, |
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We're hot getting hotter...making ears burn! |
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CHORUS Talking! |
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Huh? Talking! |
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What? Talking to you! |
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We can rap we can sing a thing or two for you. |
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We'll talk of anything , everything if you want, thing, |
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The sky is the limit, the limit is the sky, |
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Why? PWE... |
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I Say don't worry, no hurry to fret, |
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No jest, the best is yet to come |
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And some are just dumb when they say it's no fun... |
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They gotta learn, we're seriously delirious, the force is here with us... |
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We ain't joking, we're just poking fun |
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At those poking guns up each others asses |
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At each and every turn. |
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Rock so hard there's no time to roll |
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When the Poppies are on patrol, on patrol, on patrol, |
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CHORUS One-two check hi-tech in stereo, quadro, |
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Anyway you go but loose, one-oh-oh-one uses, |
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We got the juice to bruise the fuses |
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The volume in this room is much too groomed, |
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We need a big bad boom! |
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Noise K.O.! |
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Disco inferno! |
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Hey ho...yo! |
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Let's go! |
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Gonna rock the show, blow the speakers, see them glow, |
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So now you know it's not what you do, |
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But the way that you do it, |
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The speakers you blew but the way that you blew it, |
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PWEI always knew it, |
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We'll teach them all this song, it won't take long... |
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Did it? We're through with it, hit it! |
