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Dave Dub and the Sutter Cain Gang Love Lost.mp3
mediafire.com ext: .mp3 1 MB date: 2010-11-02
Source title: blind i | dave dub & the sutter cain gang |
Dave Dub and the Sutter Cain Gang Love Lost
http://www.blindiforthekids.com/music/2010/11/dave-dub-the-sutter-cain-gang/
Video results for:blind and lost mp3
Call of Duty 4 Rap "Call The Helicop" by Hammerhead (More) "Call The Helicop" by Hammerhead
Instrumental - "Lollipop" by Lil Wayne
Music Video coming soon!
MP3 links coming soon!
Lyrics
------
7 kill streak, think I wanna call the chopper...
So I go and call the chopper
7 kill streak, call the helicop
7 kill streak, call the helicop
7 kill streak, call the helicop
7 kill streak, call the helicop
Shawty wanna play, on the PS3, (or the Xbox)
Res' 1080p, I'm only on day 3 and I'm level 10 prestige (call the helicop)
Shawty wanna play, (I knife that) on the PS3, (or the Xbox)
Res' 1080p, I'm only on day 3 and I'm level 10 prestige
No one else got a class like mine
They ain't got double tap on their gun like mine
I throw a flash grenade and I make them blind
And then I pick 'em off with my red dot sight
And sometimes, I use .50 Caliber
My snipes on Crossfire have them lost for words
My sniper headshots gon' hurt... hurt
You'll be laying face down in the dirt... dirt
And that's 7 kills, so I call the helicop (I knife that)
7 kill streak, call the helicop (I knife that)
7 kill streak, call the helicop (Yeah, I knife that)
7 kill streak, call the helicop
Shawty wanna play, on the PS3, (or the Xbox)
Res' 1080p, I'm only on day 3 and I'm level 10 prestige
Shawty wanna play, (I knife that) on the PS3, (or the Xbox)
Res' 1080p, I'm only on day 3 and I'm level 10 prestige
I got martyrdom in case I get shot
I drop a grenade, I drop it like it's hot
Drop drop-drop-drop, drop it like it's hot
Drop a grenade, don't stop
Everybody that I play online ain't shit
Everybody that I play online ain't this
Everybody that I play online just miss
But my accuracy is 38%, prepare to get hit
And they can't do this, but I will do that
Umma plant a claymore, better get the fuck back
When you hear the click sound, you better take a step back
But I know where you're at... You better act fast
Shawty wanna play, (I knife that) on the PS3, (or the Xbox)
Res' 1080p, I'm only on day 3 and I'm level 10 prestige
7 kill streak, call the helicop
7 kill streak, call the helicop
7 kill streak, call the helicop (I wanna call the chopper)
7 kill streak, call the helicop
Shawty wanna play (shawty wanna play)
On the PS3 (on the PS3)
Res' 1080p, I'm only on day 3 and I'm level 10 prestige
Call UAV, so I can get some soldiers for ya
Call UAV, so I can kill some soldiers for ya
Call UAV, so I can get some soldiers for ya
Call UAV, so I can kill some soldiers for ya
Call UAV, so I can get some soldiers for ya
Call UAV, so I can kill some soldiers for ya
Call UAV, so I can get some soldiers for ya
Call UAV, so I can kill some soldiers for ya
Shawty wanna play, on the PS3, (or the Xbox)
Res' 1080p, I'm only on day 3 and I'm level 10 prestige
Shawty wanna play, on the PS3, (or the Xbox)
Res' 1080p, I'm only on day 3 and I'm level 10 prestige
My score is at the top, I'm always staying hot
And when you're at the bottom, don't act shocked
You gon' be dead, bullet to the head
Bullet to the head, bullet to the head
Call UAV, so I can get some soldiers
Call UAV, so I can kill some soldiers
Call UAV, so I can get some soldiers
Call UAV, so I can kill some soldiers
7 kill streak, call the helicop
7 kill streak, call the helicop
7 kill streak, call the helicop
7 kill streak, call the helicop (Less)
On Health Care Episode IV of "Election '08," a (More) Episode IV of "Election '08," a series of spoken word works by Mike Varley covering the 2008 campaign. A new entry every Sunday with free mp3 downloads at mikevarley.com.
On Health Care
I arose one morning
naked to potential harms -
exposed in a nation of lobbies.
And my duty was plain:
to recover myself from future misfortunes
distasteful to casual ears.
The family barber, the third
down neighbor, the cragged
librarian, the cordial face.
Who receive your ruin with genuine something,
reflect on relief for the us vs. them,
then repack your sadness as cautionary scare tales,
reinforcing a truth that is tired and hopeless.
So I went down to the cinema
where the action movies played,
hopin' to figure their talent
for makin' sick things okay with music.
I asked the teller, a flannel feller, what he reckoned would be a good score for malaria.
His glaze cried manager
and I complied, buying a billet
in the name of wellness.
I found the boss
stacking wood and pounding flapjacks,
asked him the best montage
for Hepatitis C.
His beard quilled anger
but I stood on regardless,
not wanting to ruin my mother.
I gambled he'd know
what sound effects go
with cancer or terminal others.
"Listen here, son,
these cords don't sort themselves
and I'm powerful tired.
Take this reel to Viewing Room B
and leave us your license
for measure."
The reel was government dogma
stashed safe in a shortbread tin.
Viewing Room B,
a one seat affair,
Biology style projector.
I slipped the copay into the slot
and watched the master plan.
It started red, red, clay red,
fallout red, fear for the innocent red,
and the music began: Old World choir
flanked by screeching wheels
and dire percussion, flashing images,
logic vouching for madness,
children weakened to wilting, laying on tile floors,
automated TouchTone condolences,
star for settlement,
pound for denial,
three to repeat all your options,
elderly neighbors lost
to the maw of vernacular,
forced purchase on Institution's shores,
amber prescription world views
halting further history, clothing the masses
in company tee shirts,
waiting room magazines stopping the bleeding,
doctors prescriptions incentives for getaways,
a trip to the Caymans,
a Percocet paradise,
A legal fist clenching convictions,
sapping Hippocrates' boast,
a black rotting hand on a slow dying beggar,
wrapped in a world of denial.
And then the dollar, the dollar,
the saving green dollar,
topped with a ten gallon halo,
riding to town on a horse named
Sally, white as in right as in old,
a trick shooter collar with burnt mustard tubing,
offering Pied Piper solutions,
blind insurrections against values
our fathers held dear.
A money transaction to chase away
fears the ancestors cured with compassion.
When it was over, I signed what they gave me
and tried to forget.
Logo by Ramsey Ess, beatniksquad.com (Less)
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