I'm just a bad. Boy la-la-la-la-la. La-la-la-la-la-la. La-la-la-la-la-la. La-la-la-la-la-la. (Boy). All dressed up in fancy clothes. I ain't takin' the trouble. To blow my bubbles away-ay-ay
. . And I dreamed I saw thebombers. Riding shotgun in the sky. Turning into butterflies. Above our nation. . We are stardust. We are golden. And we've got to get ourselves back to the garden.
bombers. There's a lotta sucker groups they be talkin' 'bout the troops but we burn them. Motherfuckers like tar beach on my roof. Cause I been around the block doin' proud by my pop. I said he worked
. the games changing. she be on the rap for ya'll bitches. this doobie ya heard. BX dont get it twisted. home ofthe killers,the dealers,thebombers and Remy martin. Rep that (Verse two). see i be
angels on the road to ruin. Let me tell you what we been doing. Neon angels on the road to ruin Highways hard in this modern world. Battered boys and shattered girls. Leather bombers that rule the
We'd feel much better if we sunk this treasure. And we laid our armor down. Now these precious metals, these captain's letters. Are no use to us now Oh, in the day we struggle with fatigue. Much
around the world. (same song). Brooklyn bombers (same song). Detroit players (same song). Chi-Town. all around the world. Said it's all love, Shore Club, M-I-A. Party at bungalow eight, when I stay. Pool
