Texty písní Senser Stacked Up Switch

Switch

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Well you better step to any shit we're feedin' ya,
'cause you know we ain't needin' ya. Expendable?
You're about to get it.

(Don't fall too deep down, don't fall)

I'm coming back, coming back
from the funky funky bass stack
what you see is what you get
and all I know is what I jack
shake your money maker,
shake your money maker maker now
give me a couple of minutes
and I'll show you all exactly how

Soon there won't be no money to make,
no lies to fake.
If you can't set it straight
well then you can't relate
the lies you swallow
to rules you follow
the words so hollow
so see you tomorrow
full of sorrow.

You're gonna say how did it ever get this far
when all I ever wanted was a house and a car.
Now Moma's in the backroom serving up rocks,
Daddy's in Wandsworth sitting in a box. [[3.1]]
Listen to the click of the steel as it locks.
The real enemies are in the corporate office blocks.

so 1 2, 3 to 2, 3 to 2, 1
the wheels are set in motion and the job's getting done.

Time to make the switch, make a switch y'all
So step to me when it hits ya
Time to make the switch, make a switch y'all
Come to put ya in the picture
Time to make the switch, make a switch y'all
So step to me when it hits ya
Time to make the switch, make a switch y'all
Come to put ya in the picture now.

Breaking 'em, breaking 'em down
breaking our people down.
Our leader's a clown, [[3.2]
he's trying to swim but he's gonna drown
so hear the sound.

Time to disarm,
this ain't no false alarm doing harm.
guns dance into a death-trance
like a snake charm.
One after another they stand on the corner
but I won't pack a gat just like that
'cause I don't wanna
be part of the problem,
think the solution, words of revolution
to me are still sonic pollution.
Tried to make me out to be
something I never was
never would be because
reality over us
hangs like a black cloud, sickens,
and when you stare for a second you're stricken
you cry man, the signs are simple and plain
so play it again
drifting in the last domain.
When all the gun-talk shit
that you wrote it don't float
it sinks to the bottom like a fucked up boat.
And me and my posse we got a spirit
and no soft puppet can ever put a limit in it

So 1 2, 3 to 2, 3 to 2, 1
The wheels are still in motion and the job's getting done.

Pump, pump it up, y'all
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