1. |
Kill The Dead
03:59
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Don't you cross my path
Cuz I just might leave you dead again
Life it sure ain't easy
When you are the living...DEAD
You must destroy the brains
If you wanna stay alive
Post-apocalypse a bitch
You must kill to survive
That's what I do
CHORUS:
I've got time to kill
I've got time to kill
Ain't got nothin' better to do
So now it's time to Kill THE DEAD
The stench of decaying bodies
And the sights and sounds of fear
I've become so used to death
I can't even shed a tear
Ain't no peace for the newly deceased
Only suffering remains
It might be easier
If I were insane
CHORUS (x2)
MORE BRAINS
Kill The Dead
Kill The Dead
Dead
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2. |
Don't Help Pandas
03:59
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Pandas seem so fuzzy
And Pandas seem so cute
But they're vicious warriors
In their spotted Panda suits
We think they're endangered
And that makes us say damn
But they were born to greatness
In the dimension of the PanPan
CHORUS:
Don't Help Pandas
Cuz they can help themselves
Came here from the dimension of the PanPan
Brought here by evil elves
Don't Help Pandas
Cuz they're smarter than you
Look deep into their eyes when
You see them at the zoo
Blindfolded Pandas
They will always head North
They're pulled in the direction of their homeland
To the gate they stay their course
Pandas hear with their noses
And they smell with their ears [Real talk]
Don't trust these gentle giants
Don't drop your guard; Just fear them
CHORUS
MARCH
DANCE [Go dance, Panda]
MARCH
DIE [You rotten Panda]
Repeat
CHORUS
Don't Help Pandas
Such heighth of devastation
They're biding their time
For a one world Panda Nation
We'll all be their slaves one day
One world
One Panda collective
MARCH
DANCE
MARCH
DIE
[Repeat (x3)]
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3. |
Russian Driver
02:45
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You think your commute is bad
Then I tell you thing, comrade
In home country, road drives you
Car flips in the air; Ruins mood
Solve disputes with baseball bats
Is more fun than your LOLCats
Camera is on dash pannel
Makes much food for Youtube channel
CHORUS:
RUSSIAN DRIVER
RUSSIAN DRIVER MAD
RUSSIAN DRIVER
RUSSIAN DRIVER SMASH!!!
Pedestrians fake injuries
Not even convincingly
This is bullshit; Comrade please
Tell your lawyer to blow me
We have to avoid rogue tanks
And exploding trucks on our flanks
Giant meteor flying toward me
Russian Driver N'YET GIVE FUCKSKI
CHORUS
You think your commute is bad
Then I tell you thing comrade
NASCAR race is child's play
When cars explode and crash everyday
CHORUS
RUSSIAN DRIVER
See me behind wheel
RUSSIAN DRIVER
Like baby you will squeal
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4. |
||||
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CHORUS: I'm A Muthafuckin' Bad-Ass (x4)
I'm A Bad Ass, like when you don't wipe for months
Shit on the whole game & leave y'all fake ass stuck
I hold heat in the streets to melt away your ice
Feelin' generous? Then come around my way tonight
And get LIFTED; No, I ain't talkin' 'bout weed
Call me the sandwich man, cuz I'll split you for bread & cheese, then I
Hit with slang that's algebraic
Just graph my vertices and you'll see I'm anything but formulaic
If yo dogz throw they paws, it's faux paux on they part
Cuz y'all don't wanna be around when the beef start
Word is bond; See, this is how the fuck we get it on
Don't believe me? Then bear witness to the rest of the song
I flip up my hood & convert to hoodlum ident
Because you hafta scare muthafuckas just to get some respect
Well son of a bitchass. What do we have here?
Looks like somebody ain't pay attention; Let's go clean out their ears
CHORUS (x2)
Hear this shit comfortably, then you miles away
Cuz everybody know we turn it up when we play
See kids still drivin' Civics; Actin' all lame
And rappers not pretendin' they got nothin' to say
I've seen people sell out, and not make money
Ruin they whole lives, and the shit ain't funny
Fucked around so long, that their passion goes missin'
Life's a fuckin' bitch, but you don't hear me bitchin'
You'll never take our rights away as long as you live
As long as we have hearts and souls to give
And you'll never get those, cuz they're not for sale
We're gonna keep fighting 'til the truth prevails
CHORUS (x2)
Yo mama musta fed u PCP titty milk
Cuz I don' kno' wha' chu doin' fuckin' w/ me & my ilk
Musically or physically, you dude's gonna lose
If ya paid attention to the chorus, none a this shit'd be news
But instead y'hadta play hard, with blatant disregard
Fo yo own safety fuckin' around in my yard
Just for that, I'ma drop some herbacide on u weedhedz
Cuz dis da ghetto superbowl, and y'all done blew da point spread
CHORUS (x2)
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5. |
Wheel Of Death
04:14
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6. |
The Night Howls
04:26
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7. |
Ghosts
04:14
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8. |
Vacation From Myself
04:30
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9. |
Jerk
03:09
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10. |
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11. |
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The Night Howls Milwaukee, Wisconsin
The Night Howls, from Milwaukee, WI.
Mike Grunert: Guitars, Vocals
Nick Nutter: Drums, Vocals
Rick Hanson: Bass, Vocals
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