Contraband
Deborah Dyer, Martin Kent, Richard Lewis
Okay, go then!
Oh, sold enough, but I smell the stink,
Of the money, of the weakness that you can`t conceive
And the polls of your will love your vanity, you believe
Oh, all the rust will corrupt your fight,
`Cos your belly does an echo like the tinted blight,
So the petite the baby blows you away in 4play, 4play
I say, I say, I say, yeah, yeah [X3]
Oh, look at me I love gleefully, `cos my teeth are full of women,
They shine endlessly at the foolish attempt to be reverent
All again, again
Oh, hard enough are your muscles` depth,
`Cos your smelly little belly filled with contraband
See the walls, smash the pot and aggressive fuzz
How I laugh, laugh
I say, I say, I say, yeah, yeah [X3]
I, I, I, I say, I say, I say, yeah, yeah
I say, I say, I say, yeah, yeah