[Lyrics and Melodies by Mark Boals / Music by Virjil Donati]
[2002 Boalsongs BMI / Gildon Music BMI]
The silicon city
Would like to welcome you in
But there is no pity
And no one is your friend
Be careful how you connect
Data combines in so many ways
So many numbers get out of place
Digital crime can happen to you
Your numbers taken by somebody new
Just when you think no one
(Eight Mile Road) Land of the Free, and home of the enslaved Till the concept of time 6 hours, 22 minutes, and 3 seconds, I’ve been standing in this county line By the looks of the Gridlock outside Its gotta be about 3:39 Everybody rushin from place to place The looks on their faces ain’t…
If you’re driving into town With a dark cloud above you Dial in the number Who’s bound to love you Oh honey you turn me on I’m a radio I’m a country station I’m a little bit corny I’m a wildwood flower Waving for you Broadcasting tower Waving for you And I’m sending you out…
Güneş doğmaz toprak yanmaz Aşkın olmadığı yerde Dünya dönmez ateş sönmez Aşkın olmadığı yerde Madem doğdun madem yaşıyorsun Sevmek de var kaderinde Neden sevdin neden kaçıyorsun Mutlu olmak senin elinde Yağmur yağmaz hasret dinmez Aşkın olmadığı yerde Kuşlar ötmez kervan geçmez Aşkın olmadığı yerde Madem doğdun madem yaşıyorsun Sevmek de var kaderinde Neden sevdin neden…
Bırakma ellerimi Bırakma yalnız beni Son defa seyredeyim O yaşlı gözlerini Artık bülbül ötmüyor Gül dolu pencerede Yalnız hatıran kaldı Ah boş kalan çerçevede Aşkların en güzelini Yalnız sende bulmustum Son defa seyredeyım O yaşlı gözlerini Artık bülbül ötmüyor Gül dolu pencerede Yalnız hatıran kaldı Ah boş kalan çercevede
Way a little baby wraps the hand around your finger Sunshine on your face, in the first dawn light Way she waits to let the moment linger Way the future`s always gonna bring surprise It ain’t cocaine running through your veins Beluga caviar on the gravy train It ain’t cocaine as you sip champagne As…
(Speak the peace Then slide like grease) –> Dida (Rock to the beat, get wreck on the regular) –> Grap Lover (That’s right) –> Biz Markie [ VERSE 1: Lord Finesse ] I’m real like the Son Of Sam while other are soft like Richie Gun-In-Hand Their styles is outdated like the _Running Man_ A…