Bad Rap (Who You Tryin To Kid, Kid?) - Steve Taylor

Bad Rap (Who You Tryin To Kid, Kid?) - Steve Taylor

Альбом
The Best We Could Find
Год
1987
Язык
`英語`
Длительность
182360

以下は曲の歌詞です Bad Rap (Who You Tryin To Kid, Kid?) 、アーティスト - Steve Taylor 翻訳付き

歌詞 " Bad Rap (Who You Tryin To Kid, Kid?) "

原文と翻訳

Bad Rap (Who You Tryin To Kid, Kid?)

Steve Taylor

Now L. A. hip and N. Y. chic

Been dancin' lately cheek to cheek

While Midwest good ole boys like me

Should all be playing catch-up, see

Subscribe to the Village Voice in throngs

And guess who gigs at Madame Wong’s

Well drop your pens and pant designs

And drop six words in your open minds

Who you tryin' to kid, kid?

To the Hollywood school

Teaching everything’s cool

Who you tryin' to kid, kid?

To the Greenwich mockingbird

Who has gotta have the last word

Got your head together now?

Got a way that’s better now?

Who you tryin' to kid, kid?

(Say what, bad rap, uh huh)

You save the whales

You save the seals

You save whatever’s cute and squeals

But you kill «that thing» that’s in the womb

Would not want no baby boom

Good, bad, laugh and scorn

Blame yourself for kiddie porn

Convenience is the law you keep

And your compassion’s ankle deep

Who you tryin' to kid, kid?

Wrap it in a fine philosophy

Who you tryin' to kid, kid?

But your bottom line still says «me me me»

Got your head together now?

Got a way that’s better now?

Who you tryin' to kid, kid?

You’ll march if all the streets are full

A two bit closet radical

No time to check the end result

Expedience is your catapult

Convictions make your skin to crawl

You act like you’re above it all

You say faith is a crutch for a mind that’s closed

You guzzle your crutch and shove it up your nose

Who you tryin' to kid, kid?

To my left wing band with their head in the sand

Who you tryin' to kid, kid?

To the «might makes right» playin' chicken (delight)

Got your head together now?

Got a way that’s better now?

Who you tryin' to kid, kid?

Can’t understand those Christians

So you type us all in stereo

They’re hypocrites

They’re such a bore

Well come on in

There’s room for one more

So now you’re mad

Who is this guy

To bake us all in one big pie?

You think I care

Forget it, hon

You’ve just been shot

With your own gun

(Bad rap, uh huh)

Sugar Hill’s gonna need a pill

Grandmaster Flash gonna get a rash

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