Tekst:
Agresion

Somebody cried the death of culture Somebody spit in a little boy's face Somebody said you robbed my homeland Somebody got the wrong impression So we

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------- (p) Faith No More Billy Gould: Bass Guitar; Jim

i can't begin to explain how we disassemble the parts and frame baby it's the same late morning the same no show it's the same fucking habits i guess

Here it comes The unavoidable sun weighs my head And what the hell have I done? And you know I don't remember a thing I don't remember A thing So I'm

We're only young and naive still We require certain skill The mood it changes like the wind Hard to control when it begins The bittersweet between my

I am weary From a love that games I'm not hearing Any other way Shut my eyes Head rests on my hands Quietly Hiding once again Jilted lover Sleeping

Frighten me with desolation You and I, we both agree Better off without the tension Eyes can see, eyes can see what we can't be Take these stones Now

Anunciaron Un Knockout Se Dieron Con El Pavimento Le Meto Bonito Negativo Y Violento Cuidaooo Respeta Mi Acento Dame Un Call Con Gusto Vuelvo Y Te Presento Agresivo

Yeah, [Incomprehensible] This is that Paris Hilton [Incomprehensible] Thong Production Yo, this gurl is so hot, so sexy Every time I turn around, the