Forever the Sickest Kids — Men In Black
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Men In Black Forever the Sickest Kids03:06
Текст песни: Men In Black
[Chorus] Here come the Men in Black It's the MIB's, uh, here come the MIB's Here come the Men in Black They won't let you remember, no [Verse 1] Nah, nah, nah The good guys dress in black, remember that Just in case we're ever face-to-face and make contact The title held by me, MIB Means what you think you saw, you didn't see So don't blink, B, what was there is now gone Black suits with the black ray bans on Walk in shadow, move in silence Guard against extra terrestrial violence Yo, we ain't on no government list We straight don't exist, no names and no fingerprints Saw something strange, watch your back 'Cause you never quite know where the MIB's at, uh [Chorus] Here come the Men in Black Galaxy defenders Here come the Men in Black They won't let you remember, no [Verse 2] Uh huh, now From the deepest of the darkest night On the horizon, bright light enters the sight, tight Cameras zoom on the impending doom But then, like boom, black suits fill the room up With the quickness, talk with the witnesses Hypnotizer, neuralizer Vivid memories turn to fantasies Ain't no MIB's, can I please? Do what we say, that's the way we kick it (Y'know what I mean?) See my noisy cricket get wicked on you We're your first, last, and only line of defense Against the worst scum of the universe Don't fear us, cheer us if you ever get near us Don't jeer us, we're fearless MIB's freezing up all the flack What's that stand for? "Men in Black!" [Bridge] Let me see you bounce with me Just bounce with me, just bounce it with me C'mon, let me see you just slide with me Just slide with me, just slide with me C'mon, let me see you take a walk with me Just walk with me, take a walk with me C'mon, make your neck work Now, freeze [Chorus] Here come the Men in Black Galaxy defenders Here come the Men in Black They won't let you remember, no [Outro] Alright check it, slow down, son You're worrying about the wrong thing, pimp Whoa, that's awesome, bro 817, the FTSK What up, young son, Bob Becker? 'Preciate that, young pimp
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