Artist: Vents Album: Hard to Kill Song: First of May Typed by: sensative_new_age_guy@hotmail.com [Verse 1] May Day the first of the month Get your charred carcass into market sqaure Drop bombs at Gestapo Yeh I'm still killing, stand on my own real feelin' Dying on my feet while you still kneelin' Both knees, 2 thou 6, no peace 24 years see police still run, die, try'na survive Don't want nobody getting outta line It's the five letter Vents reign of terror Trials what you think of that? ([Trials] - Yeh we break whatever) It's the overworked 'bout to go berserk Making punks disappear like presto jerk I lurk knee deep beneath the remains of broken dreams of fragile brains I wrote growing pains as a joke when you staring down the barrel of a world where they murder for a Coke now [Chorus] Chill We can give ya girl a little something she can feel Vents on the war path, crews not a deal Looking for a war better than a hot meal Trials-like still MURDER, DEATH, KILL. We can give ya girl a little something she can feel Vents on the war path, crews not a deal Looking for a war better than a hot meal MURDER, DEATH, KILL. [Verse 2] As the world celebrated, Vents One self-educated Crews stayed tight and the buzz generated Love is love, wanna crush defeat but solidarity kinda tough to beat And we under one flag dirty-rotten's thickest scum bag like Sid Vicious on skag Hate to brag but damn I'm good and you talk about quitting - yes man you should But don't change the dial we the rank and file Throwing rocks at a tank and the world banks staff like "Woooo". Check the classroom, 12 years of what Sit there - SHUT THE FUCK UP. Don't speak, a battle in the bandsaw beat Better chill your test in the depths of both feet No sleep, return of the man of rock Without a clothing brand or Government stash now [Chorus] [Verse 3] We the Black September, will not surrender Fingers stay burnt from the ember Hair-trigger temper Yeah pig offender no you not searching the car Seargent disturbed in the car Leave me the fuck alone I roll like Stallone in Cobra - feed alone And how we supposed to sleep when your beds is burning Pay my rent, get the bourbon and drink 'till I really can't think no more Year after year it's the same fucking war, for the same fucking dollar Here today, gone tomorrow Thoughts of death - six o'clock horror talked to me, thoughts of terror torture me Tales of death villages told morbidly I learned how to murder when I was a child as six million flicks built a lot of fucking style now [Chorus]