hail satan! click 4 pain! wicked since 2001 the media! fuck world trade!
thy end is near!

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Beyond Good & P.C. (EP 200666)

01 blue feelings
02 kot couture
03 nazi spaceshi-hip
04 kill yer scene
05 wait until they're crispy
06 wag the pitbull

previous shit

in hell (cv cover)

blue feelings

you come to me and tell me what to do
i take your gun and FUCK YOU!!!
i sit in the park and you come here and shout:
"move your lazy ass, sitting not allowed!"

i hate those fucking bastards, called the men in blue
annoy you with their ugly face, uäh! i'm gonna puke
no matter if they're black or white, the time has come to fight
against police misanthropy, the piggies gonna die tonight

huthuthut, huthuthut, i'll kill you and yer fucking swat
huthuthut, huthuthut, one double copper with cheese and blood
overwhelmed of the sweet smell, i like those mounted corpses
first i rip em all apart and then i eat their horses

you fine the fucking cars, outside the parking lot
you fuck the little kids, cause they are smokin pot
displace the homeless from the station, they have no right for shelter
if you got the money: "police, your friend and helper"

so if you really got nothing better to do
i tap you on the shoulder and say hello with my pumpgun
they claim to protect the human kind, but they are here to tame us
nice try mr. fucking rich, you can lick my anus


kot couture

it started with a radical scene
and it ended in the fucking mainstream
too many spiked necklaces and pink anarchy shirts
our bladez will show them how much reality hurts
conservative mohawk playing in a band
wearing a "punk's not dead"-shirt with a bible in his hand
let's cut his face and just for fun
we'll make him choke on a fucking plum

back to the radical - knusperkommando
no more fashion scene, satan keepz our swordz keen
radical revolution became fashion style pollution
no more fashion shit, jesus is a prick

let's start the operation dancehall
killing fashion punks in the shopping mall
we'll amputate the posers from the fucking scene
killing spree until everything is clean
they've raped our ideals, soon we'll eat their flesh
after we crucified them on cross made of cash

let's cut his face and just for fun
we'll make him choke on a fucking plum
let's start the operation dancehall
killing fashion punks in the shopping mall

no more fashion shit
kill jesus with a brick


nazi spaceshi-hip

beware of us mr. war machine
yer end comes through our match and some gasoline
we'll cut a pentagram in yer flesh
we'll burn yer kidz, yer flag, yer cash

beware of us mr. censorship
we'll silence yer nazi spaceshi-hip
we'll blow yer paper, bomb yer tv-set
tha 666 will kill ya dead

they sell us their freedom friez
fried in bloody oil and liez
tha kidz, they eat it 'cause their parentz feed it
they shit it out and we'll all have to breath it

beware of us mr. law attack
we'll paint yer cop car fucking black
while you're on yer way to patronize and annoy
we'll shoot yer wife and yer little boi

beware of us mr. cash flow
we'll mutilate yer skin from head to tow
we'll rob yer bank and kidnap yer sweet honey
then we watch her starve, cause we think it's funny


kill yer scene

punk, punk, so fuckin‘ anti
punk, punk, but conform to tha scene
fighting society with yer spiked hair
and kickin‘ old ladiez from their chairz

skinhead, skinhead, proud of yer pride
skinhead, skinhead, alwayz ready for a fight
you’re a really tough guy
but if your girlfriend quitz tha relationship you cry like an emo kid

there’z just one way how it’z right to do
burn churchez, kill copz and join the trash-ska crew

metalhead, metalhead, uuuaaahhh
metalhead, metalhead, keepin‘ politix outta metal
ya alwayz want to be a part of society
but we say: fuck their authority


wait until they're crispy

in school we raised our satan's circle
and choked the christianz with our girdle
now we eat yer kidz away
10 to go on ostalb-bay
we'll make a hot grill-party night
bring ketch-up, don't forget yer child
come on you fuckz do us that favor
yer kidz, they have that special flavour

revolution 666
goad the poor to eat the rich
revolution 666
make this planet badly itch

no use to cry, no use to pray
your beloved kids, they passed away
don't worry, they're in my promised land
exploring my digestive tract instead of holy sand
ostalb-bay is now ok
but this is just tha starting day
we have to overcome the nation
bomb the state and fuck the station


wag the pitbull

it’z not about gettin‘ richa just about keepin‘ standardz
we’re not greedy, but it’z impossible to share everything
we just intervene to rescue civilized oil from uncivilized nationz
and the monkeyz also must be freed because they need playstationz

oi for war,
warfare oi

axis of evil - 312 babyz thrown on tha floor
nayirah was very frightened as she saw tha blood and gore
axiz of evil – uncle sam’z disposablez
first hired then fired – to death

if ya make ‘em ask tha wrong questionz ya don’t have to be afraid of givin‘ answerz

the black death’z twisted tentaclez were led to nyc
2 towerz were pulled down, what a nice planned accident
but they just made room for more oil tankz,
more money for defense, more corporate sense


in hell (choking victim cover)

every time you humoured me,
you patronized my misery,
the yesterday's mean nothing now,
they never mattered anyhow!

oh well in hell, we like it well,
we think it's nice, we think it's swell!
i've fucked up so many times,
the more i think, the more i sink...

into the drain...
of pain and misery.
the sickness of feeling...
will end someday.

often times i wonder why
there's love and hate, there's live or die.
when sickness comes i must decide:
when feelings go, there's suicide.

oh well in hell, we like it well,
we think it's nice, we think it's swell!
we'll drink a cup of kindness yet,
in hell we learn but soon forget...

hell is life. you must admit this is true...
but don't take it so serious.
it ends so soon.

in hell!
oh well!


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