Vídeo da música

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Créditos

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Urban Dance Squad
Urban Dance Squad
Performer
Patrick Tilon
Patrick Tilon
Vocals
René van Barneveld
René van Barneveld
Guitar
Michel Schoots
Michel Schoots
Drums
Silvano Matadin
Silvano Matadin
Background Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Patrick Tilon
Patrick Tilon
Lyrics
René van Barneveld
René van Barneveld
Composer
Michel Schoots
Michel Schoots
Composer
Silvano Matadin
Silvano Matadin
Composer
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Urban Dance Squad
Urban Dance Squad
Producer
Hay Zeelen
Hay Zeelen
Mastering Engineer
hugo scholten
hugo scholten
Mixing Engineer

Letra

You come in handy, so handy You come in handy, even when I frown You come in handy, so handy You wait, I'm coming down Deprivation, innercity frustrations Look at their hands as they seek for donation European to asian, mixed with caucasian Negroes with egos ain't takin' humiliation I got a fistful, wish I had this till the end of the world Knocks on doors, collect big bills Know that the road is steep, no way you gonna sleep Creepin' 'n crawlin', fallin' on the big antheap I pay the taxman, make life more complex man Go suffice some needs Where it bleeds it lacks man Some human interest I guess, Where's that manifest that the profit, The unfit, but the lie never rest Servants plus clergymen, politician, Businessman gonna make money honey With oxygen in spray cans I stand in open field, words will never shield The feel that some big men get it all 'n never yield up And they never yield up Eyes from right to left, watch out for backstab, These souls have roles to blind you from all facts You wanna sidestep, bypass Or neglect authority is the one with big gut in big chest See how they start to grin 'n laughter becomes a sin, Big men so little but that's how they always win Attack will be just a pinch, use that common sense Block a machine, use elements within to bend Let me all put this straight, I'm here to infiltrate Play like furniture, I wait Blendin' with all the others, where talk turns to fodder Clockin' for those, the ones who hold the rudder But life's a mistress, never know what lasts Sour grapes are sweet, when it's easy to let them pass Lickin' some heels above, No matter how hard tough Let the man gloat pride you swallow up Pride you swallow up
Writer(s): Martinus H Michel Schoots, Patrick Tilon, Rene H J Van Barneveld, Silvano C Matadin Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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