Bank Job

Bank job (Bank job, bank job)
Jamaican
Freaky, freaky
Get with it
We're hit all the major cities and become a pop act
And no-one will even know, that some of us are black
We'll break all kinds of records;? make the man will remember me?
Oh in an exseckutive world, with diamond rings on all our feet
Birds don't do it, bees don't do it
We are the only ones that fall in love
Dogs don't do it, cats don't do it
We are the only ones that fall in love

Bank job (Bank job)

I'm having mixed emotions about these feelings that I'm having (Feelings that I'm having)
Feeling so unsure about the product that I'm selling (Bank job)
Trying to keep my shape while my body? wins and wanes?
By believing in myself? as the least that makes your help?
And by believing in it all the kids are gonna learn
Like cash on the street makes a living hard to earn
With a smile on my face and a dollar in my hand
You're my only way out is if you let me be your band
Here we go,?, dead to ill, ill,?, kill bill makes a,?, Jack, Jack, dead to Gill, Gill
?, freak, freak, rock for yo, yo, most with the rhymer,? most worth the fun, fun, bust? with the rhythm
Chuck, Chuck, some, some, L kill Jill, what's your deal, deal, but A to bugger Lil went down to nil, nil

Dowser, check, check, bump that freak, freak, rock, rock, click, click, it's? Oprah Winfrey?, hop, hop, hip pop
Don't do don't, don't, rock to the rhythm and you? sink your rope, rope?
We're hit all the major cities and become a pop act
And no-one will even know, that some of us are black
We'll break all kinds of records;? make the man will remember me?
Oh in an exseckutive world, with diamond rings on all our feet

What you do, old freak, freak, oh, oh, chic, chic, unless this part to the party is? cheap, cheap?
You keep on?, to a dip, dip, oh baby doll now don't the stiff lips, slip, slip, rock, rock
Don't dare stop, perform to the riddle that I hit the top, yep baby doll, oh me oh my, the groove is in the rhythm
Really my, I tell you why, like the? of the plan, more def for men, poop to the rhythm that
Poop to the phonograph, old freak? and crew?, makes you wanna? la-la?, rock to rhythm, and stop of?

Mission control. attention death command, all checks, all clear
Mission control, control, control, control, control, control, control, control



Credits
Writer(s): Bill O. Laswell, Robbie Shakespeare, Sly Dunbar, William Earl Collins, Karl Berger, Rammellzee
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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