bruising up the asphalt?
There's something going down in the inner-city
I've got this crystalline filth on my car, still
slowly working it's way under my skin.
I've seen it licking the street in the inner city
You've got your two-wheel drive,
lipstick stain suicide.
I watch the electric lights assaulting the town.
but you've seen too much,
You're going down.
And in think exhaust we play our tunes loud
(plasmatic) on the stereo.
It's playtime for the inner city and she thinks you're pretty
but I've felt it breathing all over my back
there's always something stirring;
taking it to task.