Tekst:
Terror 2000 Terror For Sale

Cry, baby your death is yet to come Cheap thrills and leather wips will treat you 'til I'm done Moan and cry, don't deny, I'll satisfy 'til you die [

Five years in prison, I don't ever wanna leave this place Wireless Internet and colour TV, I'm so amazed I robbed a bank and shot a guy who talked to

Eat my breakfast, drop the kids off That's how my daily life starts On the highway, 'til it's payday I have a meeting with the boss He has a wicked leg

Fed up with the lifestyle, fed up with the lies Fed up with the money and the feminist wives I just can't take it anymore Fed up with the bling bling

identitet Bleknar sa fort i storsta hemlighet Vi tror vi ar sa javla bra Vi jobbar 7-4 och vill bara hem Vi vill faktiskt bara dra For det regnar hela

dreadlocks, gothchicks in black Potheads and junkies, surfers and drags Drama queens, backpackers and college hunks you're all gonna suffer the terror

meant for you to have it in your palm To try to rock the crowd Puttin it all on to stay calm You waited for the God Islord to drop the bomb and swarm