If you got an itch to catch some havoc.

There’s mayhem in the plastic.

City of La La, I mean the land of holy Zsa Zsa

The wood is hot and you can spot the flocks

Of people like sheep, those with dredlocks

To jocks with Reeboks, fleeing hard rocks

A la café, Bambatta flashy fashion.

Imagine crashing bashes with bitches

That be bad and wishing for the fame

And recognition.

They’re on a mission for self, baby

We’re like the twelve, my tribe is crazy deep.

We got the beats that are hot.

We’re like clinique.

Foundation resonates when I speak.

And if by chance, you catch it

Then listen, the wisdom

Epic, open hitting, choking up.

You’ve done it now and woken up.

The giant scientist of hits

That make you jump like a lunatic

On pogo sticks, waving your fists.

So, if you’re catching a fit.

I don’t really know but you better scram,

Hurry in a double.



CHORUS:

It goes on

On and on and on

Hell raising Hollywood

Welcome to Babylon

On and on and on and on

The party don’t stop ‘til the

Mystery’s gone.

I’ve seen it all, I’ll see it again.

I shake a lot of hands

But I don’t got a lot of friends.

It goes on. On and on and on.

Hell raising Hollywood,

Welcome to Babylon.



Live from the city of lights.

Sunny days and late nights.

Dope, designer drugs, porn stars

And bar fights.

I drop. Makes the bells rock.

I’m Mr. Shifty Shellshock

Call me the man of the hour

In the land of the lost.

Taking the money and the power.

CXT, we hold our own

All eyes on us.

Crazy rise rain like brimstone,

Kicking up dust.

I grab the mic with a firm hold

In a world of shattered goals,

Pot holes, broke folks and

Bank roll.

Pole position.

Daddy rolling, rolling causing Havoc.

So, ready set.

I’m more than set

Like Morissette, to Maverick

Got a, she’s got to have it, habit.

Sick, I leave them stuck.

I’m getting high for a living,

Not giving a fuck.



CHORUS



I’m screaming out the call of the wild.

I’m speaking in tongues.

I am the child of the sun.

The power of one.

I beat the drums

Of the Crazy Town click.

It’s the third eye sitting on the tip.

Of the pyramid flipped.

Now I see a little shotty,

Illuminatti front.

Dead bodies in my trunk.

Unraveling the source,

I travel into self.

You gauge my wage

And then you try to debate my wealth.

The consequences linger

And I’m fingering the perpetrators.

Hey yo, my nature was bred

On the cross fader.

It’s the 7th house.

Armageddon trudger.

Ready for death,



It’s the brimstone slugger.



CHORUS