I'll chip a nigga little bit of nothin' I'll chip a nigga then throw the blower in his lap It's not a place This country is to be a sound of drum and bass America, God bless you if it's good to you America please take my hand Can you help me underst- New

You bout to, journey into the mind of a psychopath killer Blood spiller, mentality much iller Than you could ever imagine in your wildest dreams You'll feel his pain and his silent screams You'll feel his pain and his violent screams I'm the devil, if

Hey hey hey And I know now, that I'm so down She looks so perfect standing there In my American Apparel underwear Your lipstick stain is a work of art I've got your name tattooed in an arrow heart Let's get out

I'm a free born man of the USA There's nothing left to say The cadillac stood by the house And the yanks they were within And the tinker boys they hissed advice 'Hot-wire her with a pin' Then we turned and shook as we had a look In the room where the

We're out looking for astronauts, looking for astronauts Isn't it a little too late for this It's a little too late, too late, too late for this Little too late, too late for this Of my medium-sized American heart Are we gone Come on yeah, we know we're

Is it the end of an era? Is it the end of America? When the world was at war before We just kept dancing And we'll do it again Shake it up, throw your hands up and get loose Cut a rug, lean into the fucking youth Choreo, we just want the fucking truth

I am the, I am the, I am the sick boy And we can pick sides, but this is us, this is us, this is I live on the west side of America How many likes is my life worth? I'm from the east side of America They say that I am the sick boy Feed yourself with my

Hey ya, I wanna go out Out of my mind Hey ya, I wanna check out Step off of my cloud I'm going out, I, I, love it, love it I wanna go out, I wanna-na Let's get wild and make a memory Out of my mind, out of my mind No I can't take it anymore

Like to see America See the girls in California I'm hoping it's going to come true But there's not a lot I can do Ba-ba-ba-dow, ba-bow-dum-doo-de-dow-de-dow, de Ba-ba-ba-dow, ba-bow-dum-de-doo-de-dow Take a look at my girlfriend She's the only one I got

This is the last cowboy song The end of a hundred year Waltz The voices sound sad as they're singin' along Another piece of America's lost He rides the feed lots, clerks in the markets On weekends sellin' tobacco and beer And his dreams of tomorrow,