There is space all around us/ Space that occupies the length of the sky from the ground up, It abounds and astounds us/ Space that we just can’t wait to eliminate when we’ve found lust/ And the very thing we pray for when our mates are starting to hound us/ The sound of space silent, and breaking the speed of sound is violent/ But it’s necessary to crack the atmosphere to find it/ There’s Space between cars when you’ve sped in the streets that should never be breached or you’re dead and deceased/ There’s even space between Letterman’s teeth/ You’d better increase the space between us/ Cause personal space invaders get their gender planets switched from Mars to Venus/ Banished into uncharted regions, sandwiched between millenniums/ Challengers get brandished as wasted space like their perineum’s/ Space is at a premium, so guard your place/ It’s hard to take a harsher fate, than cats jacking your parking space/ Your car’s displaced, and I fit in where I can, and if you’re a guy/ Your petitioning women to fill up the space between their thighs/ And I’ve realized that space is what makes safer sex/ Relying on rubbers that won’t break or stretch, to place your bets/ I raise the question and most heads will take a guess/ Why? Cause most cats ain’t smart enough to be Astronauts, but make amazing Space Cadets/ I’m acing tests, cause I’m known perform with grace/ Scorching ‘em over breaks – my mind serves as my lyrical storage space/ I’ve scorched the bass drum, and I’ve spared snares when the board’s recording/ My big bang theory states that space got more suns than George Forman/ I’m tormenting rappers that are 2 faced cheaters/ Claiming their block is hot, but only with the power set to max on their space heaters/ The waste they feed us is alarming/ Their CDs are overpriced like living space in lower Manhattan apartments/ There’s space in a coffin, for your remains to be rotten/ Space that is made of stars, and space that’s contained in a carton/ Space in this game for those willing to suffer pain/ Space for a new thought to stuff in your brain/ (red)*But there’s no space in my FUCKING name/*
Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
