I feel abused
It's house music
Reminds me of you
I can't stop thinking stuff
I feel abused
But I know what's real
I'll know if my body gets healed
To make me DJ in a bad mood
I like punk music, the jazz and the blues
But the reggae music, never refuse
Come on, go!
Hear my rubadub, it is written
My name is Sublime, Bradley, I'll teach you real quick
But no (?) on my head
Aight, so
Just waitin' for the tide to get low
Nights get slow, but they put me in a trance
But, it ain't house music, it makes me want to dance
I said yes
All things, you said you know
Like a little hoe
But I was here
Sorry, but it's time for us to get off the stage, bro
This is about it
I said, hip-hop rolls, hip-hop rolls
And the beggar in the street said, "We can't take it"
Hip-hop rolls, hip-hop rolls
And the other in the street said, "We can't take it"
Rock music, we want rock music (x4)
They hope for a Jah in the sky with you
Them on a bike ride at 'em, an' you
So get your funky jazz band
The dance goes in
Show them what I mean
Budda-by, budda-by, budda-by, we off it
Them got enough soul, boy
'Nuff rock and roll, and we got enough
So why, boy?
Rock and roll, enough rock and roll
And we got the soul - woah, woah, woah
Alright, you know what we're gonna do, is
'Nuff respect to the man in charge, and the man Scotty, too
And the microphone, with us, doesn't know what to do
We're gonna bring it down, nice and low
Bassline:
And now, with the band
Rock our mic stands
Well, don't you stress, don't you 'fess
Don't you stunt my roadman
My name a Bradley, gonna rock ya
And that's how I lie, I
Have the kinda music, never gets old
Whole time, I give her the music, not the stage
Whole crowd, I make ya get on the dance floor
Whole crowd of people (?)
They don't want no rub-a-dub this time, don't want no rub-a-dub
Bring it down low
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