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Salsa lyrics

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    >> All lyrics and chords of "311"
     Salsa
    >> 311
     
        We were born in the seventies
    The rippin and rhyming and brethren see
    We're filling taste great
    In the old school I was eight
    Fot the new school I was late
    But in high school I was debate
    I rate in the great state of California
    I'm warning ya
    Je vais a la plage parce que le guignol est chouette!
    I kick nonsense in French tasty like Crepe Suzette
    I bet you're feeling famished for a 311 sandwich
    Not the wack DJ's that I'm a damage
    I like a beat that's unique and I like my head zooming
    And in my Continental you know that shit's booming
    With the diamond in the back suicide doors
    You can look from here to eternity
    And never receive your morsel.

    Another tale of ordinary madness
    The girl who gave you her sex I heard was homeless say
    All I really wanna is to feel nirvana
    Won't you take me tonight and we just might find
    A bottle of wine and feel our nasty nature
    Your toung lickin' up my tounge
    Your radio pickin' up a smokey jazz love song
    Madness becomes you even though your
    Livin' life it's hard to exist when you're tempted
    By flesh you wanna bust through
    Beautiful legs in the bar there is poetry
    She bends and suspends and her ass
    Is a marvelous thing
    A dance dancin' at a club the Hereafter
    Who can't really dance but that doesn't really matter
    And she won't hear applause
    Cus your drunk and lost
    All light is gone
    Your arms spread like a cross
    And you're dreaming that the world
    Will soon fall apart
    Topless firl in your gaze
    Which is hazy
    Takes your dollar
    In the gutter without cigarettes
    Or wine your hungover
    I was warned of your normal
    Behaviour and felt
    My life was too short to
    Consider your wack self
    It's like this when you dip down
    And you are boxin'
    Reeling against the ropes and you
    Face some young Mexican
    Your scrappin' your kneck gets
    Snapped back your eyes have bled
    Your thinking' about a comeback
    But your takin' it to the head
    You little bastard
    Better watch you back
    Cuz we're after
    Your punk ass by God we're gonna jack it
    You're played out and small time
    And your show is over
    You're 'bout as lucky as a three leaf clover
    And your older ho bag sceezer
    In her droopy saggy skin
    Who thoughtshe was a model
    But in truth a never-has-been
    You both are fools
    You and your cheap rooms too
    The cigar biting your lips the way love use to
     
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