First Of May - Vents

May day, the first of the month

Get your charred carcass into market sqaure

Drop bombs at Gestapo

Yeah I’m still killing, stand on my own real feelin'

Dying on my feet while you still kneelin'

Both knees, two-thou-six, no peace

Twenty-four years see police still run, die, tryna survive

Don’t want nobody getting outta line

It’s the five letter Vents reign of terror

Trials what you think of that?

Yeah we break whatever

It’s the overworked 'bout to go berserk

Making punks disappear like presto jerk

I lurk knee deep beneath the remains of

Broken dreams of fragile brains

I wrote growing pains as a joke

When you staring down the barrel of a world where they murder for a Coke

Now

Chill, we can give ya girl a little something she can feel

Vents on the war path, crews know the deal

Looking for a war better than a hot meal

Trials-like still, murder, death, kill

We can give ya girl a little something she can feel

Vents on the war path, crews know the deal

Looking for a war better than a hot meal

Murder, death, kill

As the world celebrated, Vents one, self-educated

Crews stayed tight and the buzz generated

Love is love, wanna crush defeat but

Solidarity kinda tough to beat

And we under one flag

Dirty-rotten's thickest scum bag like Sid Vicious on skag

Hate to brag but damn I’m good

And you talk about quitting, yes man, you should

But don’t change the dial we the rank and file

Throwing rocks at a tank and the world banks staff

Like «Woo» Check the classroom

Twelve years of what, sit there, shut the fuck up!

Don’t speak, a battle in the bandsaw beat

Better chill your test in the depths of both feet

No sleep, return of the man of rock

Without a clothing brand or Government stash

Now

Chill, we can give ya girl a little something she can feel

Vents on the war path, crews know the deal

Looking for a war better than a hot meal

Trials-like still, murder, death, kill

We can give ya girl a little something she can feel

Vents on the war path, crews know the deal

Looking for a war better than a hot meal

Murder, death, kill

We the Black September, will not surrender

Fingers stay burnt from the ember, hair-trigger temper

Yeah pig offender, no you not searching the car

Sargeant disturbed in the car

Leave me the fuck alone

I roll like Stallone in Cobra, feed alone

And how we supposed to sleep when your beds is burning

Pay my rent, get the bourbon

And drink till I really can’t think no more

Year after year it’s the same fucking war

For the same dollar, here today, gone tomorrow

Thoughts of death, six o’clock horror

Talked to me, thoughts of terror torture me

Tales of death villages told morbidly

I learned how to murder when I was a child

As six million flicks built a lot of fucking style

Now

Chill, we can give ya girl a little something she can feel

Vents on the war path, crews know the deal

Looking for a war better than a hot meal

Trials-like still, murder, death, kill

We can give ya girl a little something she can feel

Vents on the war path, crews know the deal

Looking for a war better than a hot meal

Murder, death, kill