Fort Minor - Bleach lyrics

( Hey Joe, a-were you goin' with that gun in your hand?) Tony: Yeah? Chris: It's me. Tony: Called you half-a-f**in' hour ago. Chris: Yea, Adriana put my keys where I couldn't find 'em. Tony: Go to the drug store, get two pairs of surgical gloves, some bleach, come to our friend's house - the contractor. Yo, swing the sword for the cla**ic year Bring the noise with your hands up, slash and tear Who can, fathom asthma, dash for air Spitting on the baby bib in the plastic chair What's up stupid? Shoot this 1-5-1 in the shot gla**, hot flash Banging on the drum, huh We cause havoc down in Las Vegas Paper trails racing Pelican Brief-cases We outrageous, name the streets gave us Yeah, we got fame, but now we heat blazers I let them all fly, ten in the clip, one in the chamber Thumbs up, another banger Untuck the flamer, dumb f** It's like getting hit with a dump truck Brains and guts Maim, cut, aim, duck, same, stuff Get you cracked up like c**aine, heat 'em up OK, I'll let a s**a's fly once Face down, found him in his Cap'n Crunch Uh, malpractice - a bang-all jam I joust rappers and track in the radar scans Flip beats for the crew like fleets and platoons Reach for the moon like Reese Witherspoon, uh Don't stop the sure-shot, the rooftop anthem Blast the gold box, co*k back the cannon What's up partna, I got ya (what, what) Hope that spoken gunshots crack the piñata Slap, box, mouth of backwash Teeth mashed up on the asphalt, ya dig? Set the pace like a mustang, mashin' Up the stakes, who wanna cut the cake, I take cash Dropped on a blood-stained mattress Stop, you ain't got access, watch I'mma change my a**et, Ryu and Tak You little c*nts in the game, you can s** my co*k Lay flat on the ground don't make a peep If you want the stains out now, get the bleach Get the bleach Guess who's got the rubber gloves and the bleach? Guess who's rockin every club, that's me Get so hot, you feel the buzz in the streets Keeping it knockin', drop drop that beat Guess who got the group name on top? S.O.B. got the rap thing locked Who want what, when, why, and what not Who got next up, Ryu and Tak Yeah, here it comes, all you hear is a click Bloody brains on the sand with a Miracle Whip While the blood keeps gushing, relish and pink mustard, huh I'mma slam till I tear it to bits, 'til the bell for the recess rang On the defense game, you feeling grilled like P.F. Changs Hopscotch on the corpse 'til I drop the torch And burn crews for their views that would rock with force Saying, don't stop the sure-shot, the rooftop anthem Blast the gold box, co*k back the cannon What's up y'all, we don't stall, come one, come all 'Til we drop the ball like Get the bleach Get the bleach Get the bleach Get the bleach Get the bleach Get the bleach Yeah ( Yo, yo. Shinoda, Shinoda from the South Dakota, it's Big Ghost right here, you know what I mean? With the baking soda and the... This, this... yo, that... We finished off that joint for, um, you and Lupe, you know what I mean? So yo, um, hit me back, G. So I can understand your rap, you know what I mean? You got me, got me, like, kinda twisted over this. I want you to try to explain it, alright? One.)