Dynamite Sound - Jehst

Bruce Dickinson: Easy, guys.

I put my pants on just like the rest of you --

one leg at a time.

Except, once my pants are on, I make gold records.

Alright, here we go.)

It’s the illest in the known universe

About to burst

I make a dead man jump up out the hearse

When I spout the verse

The man behind the red eyes glowing inside the cloud of herb

Yeah, we’re about to blaze

I’m a

Fire hazard in a crowded place

I’m a

Bio hazard straight out of the lab

My life battling

Trapped in a barrel of crabs

The rap lobster

I stay red like that

The monster, rip off your head like that

Then I head right back to location X

I got ecstasy pills and a crate of Becks

I got MDMA at the end of the day

When the moon turns black and I enter the stage

A4 venting the rage

Like guman empty the gauge

I tend to the page

The pen mightier than the blade

I might be mistaken

But I stay writing away

I’m the iceberg melting

You’re riding my wave

Fire make primates hide in the cave

Try test Jehst with the mind of an ape?

Nah, I’m at the next evolutionary

Very revolutionary stage

You could get buried in the grave

With a grave weight heavy on my brain

(You have got, what appears to be, a dynamite sound

You have got, what appears to be, a dynamite sound.)

You might see me in khaki fatigues and a green T

Sipping on green tea

Smoking the green tree

Putting my puma through the TV

In disgust

Pull out the breakbeats

Blow off the dust

Cess blow in the gust

Flow off the top like breast milk fresh from the bust

I got a spot like lust

Plus

I’m using my loaf for earning a crust

Burning the buds

Slurring and drunk

On street

Scraping the curb with my dunks

Cursing the government

Serving the skunk

Working the words for the worth of the drums

Mainly concerned with the funds

Like a first time father faced with the birth of a son

I’m like a bullet just burst from a gun

Hellfire turning the Earth to a Sun

Everything bun

Everything done

Lion in the jungle

Everything run!

Elephant stampeding through your precint

Old school in a tracksuit and a sheep skin

Stomping out these weaklings

Anne Robinson saying, 'Goodbye,' to the weak links

It’s a week in the life of Billy Brimstone

Dope beats for your iPod

(You have got, what appears to be, a dynamite sound

You have got, what appears to be, a dynamite sound.)

(Eric Bloom: Stop! Um, Bruce, could you come in here for a minute, please?

Bruce Dickinson: That… that was gonna be a great track.

Guys, what’s the deal?

Eric Bloom: Uh, are you sure that was sounding okay?

Bruce Dickinson: I’ll be honest.

fellas, it was sounding great.

But.

I could’ve used a little more cowbell.)