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sublime - don't push lyrics

stolen from an african land
chased out with a knife
with a face like bob marley and a mouth like a motor bike
oh well the bars are always open, and the time is always right
and if god’s good word goes unspoken, the music goes all night

and it goes…
if i was bob marley, i said could you be loved
and if i was half pint, i’d ball the lord up above
if i was mike tyson, i would look for a fight
and if i was a boomtown rat, i would be stayin up all night
if i was the king i’d rock, i would get stupid dumb
and if rhymes were valiums, i’d be comfortably numb

if i had a shotgun, you know what i’d do?
i’d point that sh-t straight at the sky
and shoot heaven on down for you
because the bars are always open, and the time is always right
and if god’s good word goes unspoken; the music goes all night
and it goes…

i want a lover, but i can’t find the time
i want a reason, but i can’t find the rhyme
and i want to start some static, but i can’t afford,
to just lay on the ground like i fell off my skateboard
and nowadays, it’s clear as you please,
strap with protection or strap with disease.
laughter, it’s free, any time just call me
439-0116, when your down with sublime you get
funky-fresh lyrics, you get nothin’

stolen from an africa land
i was chased out of the bar
i saw my best friend tonight, so don’t push me too far

i’m gonna run come down with the new lyrics,
get hit, get hip, don’t slip you knuckle heads
racism is schism on a serious tip
you don’t believe me than i’ll come bust your lip.
i hear the mountain, it hard to climb
rougher the rhythm and it must be sublime
listen yellow lover yeah it right on time
we got cricket with the quickness and the b-ss line

go and raid the sound and tell the people the news, oh, hey
tell them reggae music is on the loose
here i am from the place where the sun keeps shinin’
new style and a unique fashion
and good, good vibes that keep on playin, playin

people wanna come up and they wan tell me
smokin’ crack cocaine better than sensi
you’re pumpin’ that sh-t, yo we’re sick of it
tweakin’ every weekend and we just can’t take it
whoa, we don’t want plastic

- sublime lyrics

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