Sly & Robbie - Bank Job

Текст песни

Jamaican\nFreaky, freaky\nGet with it We’re hit all the major cities and become a pop act\nAnd no-one will even know, that some of us are black\nWe’ll break all kinds of records;? make the man will remember me?\nOh in an exseckutive world, with diamond rings on all our feet\nBirds don’t do it, bees don’t do it We are the only ones that fall in love\nDogs don’t do it, cats don’t do it We are the only ones that fall in love\nBank job (Bank job)\nI’m having mixed emotions about these feelings that I’m having (Feelings that\nI’m having)\nFeeling so unsure about the product that I’m selling (Bank job)\nTrying to keep my shape while my body? wins and wanes?\nBy believing in myself? as the least that makes your help?\nAnd by believing in it all the kids are gonna learn\nLike cash on the street makes a living hard to earn\nWith a smile on my face and a dollar in my hand\nYou’re my only way out is if you let me be your band\nHere we go,???, dead to ill, ill,???, kill bill makes a,???\n, Jack, Jack, dead to Gill, Gill\n???, freak, freak, rock for yo, yo, most with the rhymer,?\nmost worth the fun, fun, bust? with the rhythm\nChuck, Chuck, some, some, L kill Jill, what’s your deal, deal, but A to bugger\nLil went down to nil, nil\nDowser, check, check, bump that freak, freak, rock, rock, click, click, it’s?\nOprah Winfrey?, hop, hop, hip pop\nDon’t do don’t, don’t, rock to the rhythm and you? sink your rope, rope?\nWe’re hit all the major cities and become a pop act\nAnd no-one will even know, that some of us are black\nWe’ll break all kinds of records;? make the man will remember me?\nOh in an exseckutive world, with diamond rings on all our feet\nWhat you do, old freak, freak, oh, oh, chic, chic, unless this part to the\nparty is? cheap, cheap?\nYou keep on???, to a dip, dip, oh baby doll now don’t the stiff lips,\nslip, slip, rock, rock\nDon’t dare stop, perform to the riddle that I hit the top, yep baby doll,\noh me oh my, the groove is in the rhythm\nReally my, I tell you why, like the??? of the plan, more def for men,\npoop to the rhythm that\nPoop to the phonograph, old freak? and crew?, makes you wanna? la-la?\n, rock to rhythm, and stop of???\nMission control. attention death command, all checks, all clear\nMission control, control, control, control, control, control, control, control