Albino Brown

Albino Brown

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No

Lyrics

Addicts in the Attic

Written By: Albino Brown

“ADDICTS in the ATTIC”:

Addicts to attics and junkies to junk,
They’re diein’ among my relics and stuff.
Among memories and treasures,
and heirlooms,
The livin’ dead have sealed
their tomb....

I’ve got addicts in the attic,
and they ain’t no friends of mine.
They’ve been kickin’ round, gettin’ down, livin’ like parasites.
Where the rent is low,
but the tenants always get high.
If I don’t kick ‘em to the curb soon, we’ll all be doin’ time.

Addicts to attics and junkies to junk,
They’re diein’ among my relics and stuff.
Among memories and treasures,
and heirlooms,
The livin’ dead have sealed their tomb....

...In a cocoon of doom, shroom, and gloom,
They think they’re immune, from grave to womb.
...In a cocoon of doom, shroom, and gloom,
They think they’re immune, from grave to womb.

I’ve got addicts in the attic,
and they ain’t no friends of mine.
They’ve been kickin’ round, gettin’ down, livin’ like parasites.
Where the rent is low, but the tenants always get high.
If I don’t kick ‘em to the curb soon, we’ll all be doin’ time.

Hidin’ among the shadows and rafters,
They’re diein’ in rapture with the ghetto blaster.
Junkies in the junkyard, brewin’ up their phuncfarm.
Crawled into the crawlspace between a rock and a hard place.

I’ve got to live my life,
But their smoke keeps gettin’ in my eyes.
They live by the motto of do and die.
Waitin’ for li’l’ red ridin’ high.

My overhead is the livin’ dead....
...Of dreadheads and deadheads and skinheads and potheads
Livin’ here among the cobwebs.

They’re hangin’ with the lightbulbs, lyin’ with the floor mats.
They’re livin’ in a roach trap, hangin’ with the dingbats....
...scroungin’ like dirty rats ....pesterin’ like flyin’ gnats....
and livin’ off the phat cats....

...My attic has become a haven
for modern-day pirates!!!

I’ve got addicts in the attic,
and they ain’t no friends of mine.
They’ve been kickin’ round, gettin’ down, livin’ like parasites.
Where the rent is low, but the tenants always get high.
If I don’t kick ‘em to the curb soon, we’ll all be doin’ time.

They’re kickin’ it, they’re just not “kickin’ it.”
They’re fixin’ it, they’re just not “fixin’ it.”
There’s no doubt about it,
I’ve got to kick out the habit....

Fight! Fight!
They’re stayin’ up all night.
They’re actin’ super stupid
With their bodies and minds polluted.

They don’t know what to be
With no identity.
They’re slaves, super stupid,
In the land of the free!

They have no where to go,,
They have nothin’ to show
They’re fightin’ everyone
When they’re the biggest foe.

Addicts to attics and junkies to junk,
They’re diein’ among my relics and stuff.
Among memories and treasures, and heirlooms,
The livin’ dead have sealed their tomb....

I’ve got addicts in the attic,
and they ain’t no friends of mine.
They’ve been kickin’ round, gettin’ down, livin’ like parasites.
Where the rent is low, but the tenants always get high.
If I don’t kick ‘em to the curb soon, we’ll all be doin’ time.

I’ve got addicts in the attic,
and they ain’t no friends of mine.
They’ve been kickin’ round, gettin’ down, livin’ like parasites.
Where the rent is low, but the tenants always get high.
If I don’t kick ‘em to the curb soon, we’ll all be doin’ time.

I’ve got addicts in the attic,
and they ain’t no friends of mine.

I’ve got addicts in the attic,
and they ain’t no friends of mine.

I’ve got addicts in the attic,
and they ain’t no friends of mine.

I’ve got addicts in the attic,
and they ain’t no friends of mine.

But, how does one evict addiction?....
...How does one get the addict out of the attic?

"ADDICTS IN THE ATTIC,"
© 2008, Albino Brown.

“ADDICTS in the ATTIC”:

Addicts to attics and junkies to junk,
They’re diein’ among my relics and stuff.
Among memories and treasures, and heirlooms,
The livin’ dead have sealed their tomb....

I’ve got addicts in the attic,
and they ain’t no friends of mine.
They’ve been kickin’ round, gettin’ down, livin’ like parasites.
Where the rent is low, but the tenants always get high.
If I don’t kick ‘em to the curb soon, we’ll all be doin’ time.

Addicts to attics and junkies to junk,
They’re diein’ among my relics and stuff.
Among memories and treasures, and heirlooms,
The livin’ dead have sealed their tomb....

...In a cocoon of doom, shroom, and gloom,
They think they’re immune, from grave to womb.
...In a cocoon of doom, shroom, and gloom,
They think they’re immune, from grave to womb.

I’ve got addicts in the attic,
and they ain’t no friends of mine.
They’ve been kickin’ round, gettin’ down, livin’ like parasites.
Where the rent is low, but the tenants always get high.
If I don’t kick ‘em to the curb soon, we’ll all be doin’ time.

Hidin’ among the shadows and rafters,
They’re diein’ in rapture with the ghetto blaster.
Junkies in the junkyard, brewin’ up their ph

Bona Fide Celebrity

Written By: Albino Brown

"BONA FIDE CELEBRITY":
**anthem for the ongoing epidemic in the "celebrity-hood."

I Walk and Talk Pretty
in the Plastic City
With my plastic cards
and my plastic surgery.
I’m livin’ large,
livin’ the impossible dream
‘Cause I’m a bona fide celebrity.

I don’t make news.
I make history.
I’m not a role model.
I’m a commodity.
And my very name defies gravity
‘Cause I’m a bona fide celebrity.

With my head in the clouds
and my feet in dookie,
I’ve got a front row seat
in my own fantasy;
And I’m a shootin’ star
in my own galaxy.
‘Cause I’m a bona fide celebrity.

I’m made fresh daily,
in high fashion magazines,
Livin’ other people’s whacked fantasies;
And with every autograph and autobiography,
It seems everybody
wants a piece of me.

With the fame and money
and notoriety,
And ratings defining my identity;
Like a pet on a leash
and a puppet on a string,
What you want is what you see.

I said the spotlight has blinded me.
I said the spotlight has blinded me;
And celebrity, is all I can see.
It’s my manifest, destiny;
And I can be whatever
you want me to be;
And everybody knows me,
Except me.

So I escape, in my plastic submarine
From party to party
Drinkin’ gasoline
With my homies and trophies,
and my beauty queens,
I’m livin’ life to the extreme.
I’m currently starring (starring),
in my own tragedy
With my family (family),
of paparazzi.
Like so many before me (before me), with this social disease;
And we’re featured every night
on the channel E.

Celebrity is a communicable disease
Of disposable heroes of hypocrisy;
And we’re all single (single), divorced from reality,
And runnin’ on empty,
in our limousines.

Everybody,
is their own favorite charity,
With broken dreams,
and tarnished legacies.
Nobody knows where we’re goin’,
or where we’ve been.
We’re tryin’ to find meaning,
With other fallen stars,
on the streets of Plastic City.

I said the spotlight has blinded me.
I said the spotlight has blinded me.
I’m gonna melt down, Plastic City.
I’ve got to melt down, Plastic City.
We’re gonna melt down Plastic City,
So I can rediscover me.

"BONA FIDE CELEBRITY,"
© 2008, Albino Brown.

"BONA FIDE CELEBRITY":
**anthem for the ongoing epidemic in the "celebrity-hood."

I Walk and Talk Pretty
in the Plastic City
With my plastic cards
and my plastic surgery.
I’m livin’ large,
livin’ the impossible dream
‘Cause I’m a bona fide celebrity.

I don’t make news.
I make history.
I’m not a role model.
I’m a commodity.
And my very name defies gravity
‘Cause I’m a bona fide celebrity.

With my head in the clouds
and my feet in dookie,
I’ve got a front row seat
in my own fantasy;
And I’m a shootin’ star
in my own galaxy.
‘Cause I’m a bona fide celebrity.

I’m made fresh daily,
in high fashion magazines,
Livin’ other people’s whacked fantasies;
And with every autograph
and autobiography,
It seems everybody
wants a piece of me.

With the fame and money
and notoriety,
And ratings defining my identity;
Like a pet on a leash
and a puppet on a string,
What you want is what you see.

I said the spotlight has blinded me.
I said the spotlight has blinded me;
And celebrity, is all I can see.
It’s my manifest, destiny;
And I can be whatever
you want me to be;
And everybody knows me,
Except me.

So I escape,
in my plastic submarine
From party to party
Drinkin’ gasoline
With my homies and trophies,
and my beauty queens,
I’m livin’ life to the extreme.
I’m currently starring (starring),
in my own tragedy
With my family (family),
of paparazzi.
Like so many before me (before me), with this social disease;
And we’re featured every night
on the channel E.

Celebrity is a communicable disease
Of disposable heroes of hypocrisy;
And we’re all single (single), divorced from reality,
And runnin’ on empty,
in our limousines.

Everybody,
is their own favorite charity,
With broken dreams,
and tarnished legacies.
Nobody knows where we’re goin’,
or where we’ve been.
We’re tryin’ to find meaning,
With other fallen stars,
on the streets of Plastic City.

I said the spotlight has blinded me.
I said the spotlight has blinded me.
I’m gonna melt down, Plastic City.
I’ve got to melt down, Plastic City.
We’re gonna melt down Plastic City,
So I can rediscover me.

"BONA FIDE CELEBRITY,"
© 2008, Albino Brown.

Addicts inthe Attic

Written By: Albino Brown

“ADDICTS in the ATTIC”:

I’ve got addicts in the attic,
and they ain’t no friends of mine.
They’ve been kickin’ round, gettin’ down, livin’ like parasites.
Where the rent is low,
but the tenants always get high.
If I don’t kick ‘em to the curb soon, we’ll all be doin’ time.

Addicts to attics and junkies to junk,
They’re diein’ among my relics and stuff.
Among memories and treasures,
and heirlooms,
The livin’ dead have sealed their tomb....

I’ve got addicts in the attic,
and they ain’t no friends of mine.
They’ve been kickin’ round, gettin’ down, livin’ like parasites.
Where the rent is low, but the tenants always get high.
If I don’t kick ‘em to the curb soon, we’ll all be doin’ time.

Hidin’ among the shadows and rafters,
They’re diein’ in rapture with the ghetto blaster.
Junkies in the junkyard,
brewin’ up their phuncfarm.
Crawled into the crawlspace between a rock and a hard place.

...In a cocoon of doom, shroom,
and gloom,
They think they’re immune,
from grave to womb.

...In a cocoon of doom, shroom,
and gloom,
They think they’re immune,
from grave to womb.

They’re hangin’ with the lightbulbs, lyin’ with the floor mats.
They’re livin’ in a roach trap, pesterin’ like flyin’ gnats....
...scroungin’ like a dirty rat,
livin’ off the phat cats....

...My attic has become a haven (yeah. yeah.)
for modern-day pirates!!!

...My attic has become a haven (yeah. yeah.)
for modern-day pirates!!!

I’ve got addicts in the attic,
and they ain’t no friends of mine.
They’ve been kickin’ round, gettin’ down, livin’ like parasites.
Where the rent is low, but the tenants always get high.
If I don’t kick ‘em to the curb soon, we’ll all be doin’ time.

Addicts to attics and junkies to junk,
They’re diein’ among my relics and stuff.
Among memories and treasures,
and heirlooms,
The livin’ dead have sealed their tomb....

I’ve got addicts in the attic,
and they ain’t no friends of mine.
They’ve been kickin’ round, gettin’ down, livin’ like parasites.
Where the rent is low,
but the tenants always get high.
If I don’t kick ‘em to the curb soon, we’ll all be doin’ time.

I’ve got to live my life,
But their smoke keeps gettin’ in my eyes.
They live by the motto of do and die;
As they lie in wait to be ridin’ high.

They’re kickin’ it,
they’re just not “kickin’ it.”
They’re fixin’ it,
they’re just not “fixin’ it.”
There’s no doubt about it,
I’ve got to kick out the habit....

I’ve got addicts in the attic,
and they ain’t no friends of mine.
They’ve been kickin’ round, gettin’ down, livin’ like parasites.
Where the rent is low,
but the tenants always get high.
If I don’t kick ‘em to the curb soon, we’ll all be doin’ time.

I’ve got addicts in the attic,
and they ain’t no friends of mine.
They’ve been kickin’ round, gettin’ down, livin’ like parasites.
Where the rent is low,
but the tenants always get high.
If I don’t kick ‘em to the curb soon, we’ll all be doin’ time.

I’ve got addicts in the attic,
and they ain’t no friends of mine.

I’ve got addicts in the attic,
and they ain’t no friends of mine.

I’ve got addicts in the attic,
and they ain’t no friends of mine.

I’ve got addicts in the attic,
and they ain’t no friends of mine.

"ADDICTS IN THE ATTIC,"
© 2008, Albino Brown.

Addicts in the Attic

Written By: Albino Brown

"ADDICTS in the ATTIC":

I've got addicts in the attic,
and they ain't no friends of mine.
They've been kickin' round, gettin' down, livin' like parasites.
Where the rent is low,
but the tenants always get high.
If I don't kick 'em to the curb soon, we'll all be doin' time.

Addicts to attics and junkies to junk,
They're diein' among my relics and stuff.
Among memories and treasures,
and heirlooms,
The livin' dead have sealed their tomb....

I've got addicts in the attic,
and they ain't no friends of mine.
They've been kickin' round, gettin' down, livin' like parasites.
Where the rent is low, but the tenants always get high.
If I don't kick 'em to the curb soon, we'll all be doin' time.

Hidin' among the shadows and rafters,
They're diein' in rapture with the ghetto blaster.
Junkies in the junkyard,
brewin' up their phuncfarm.
Crawled into the crawlspace between a rock and a hard place.

...In a cocoon of doom, shroom,
and gloom,
They think they're immune,
from grave to womb.

...In a cocoon of doom, shroom,
and gloom,
They think they're immune,
from grave to womb.

They're hangin' with the lightbulbs, lyin' with the floor mats.
They're livin' in a roach trap, pesterin' like flyin' gnats....
...scroungin' like a dirty rat,
livin' off the phat cats....

...My attic has become a haven (yeah. yeah.)
for modern-day pirates!!!

...My attic has become a haven (yeah. yeah.)
for modern-day pirates!!!

I've got addicts in the attic,
and they ain't no friends of mine.
They've been kickin' round, gettin' down, livin' like parasites.
Where the rent is low, but the tenants always get high.
If I don't kick 'em to the curb soon, we'll all be doin' time.

Addicts to attics and junkies to junk,
They're diein' among my relics and stuff.
Among memories and treasures,
and heirlooms,
The livin' dead have sealed their tomb....

I've got addicts in the attic,
and they ain't no friends of mine.
They've been kickin' round, gettin' down, livin' like parasites.
Where the rent is low,
but the tenants always get high.
If I don't kick 'em to the curb soon, we'll all be doin' time.

I've got to live my life,
But their smoke keeps gettin' in
my eyes.
They live by the motto of do and die;
As they lie in wait to be ridin' high.

They're kickin' it,
they're just not "kickin' it."
They're fixin' it,
they're just not "fixin' it."
There's no doubt about it,
I've got to kick out the habit....

I've got addicts in the attic,
and they ain't no friends of mine.
They've been kickin' round, gettin' down, livin' like parasites.
Where the rent is low,
but the tenants always get high.
If I don't kick 'em to the curb soon, we'll all be doin' time.

I've got addicts in the attic,
and they ain't no friends of mine.
They've been kickin' round, gettin' down, livin' like parasites.
Where the rent is low,
but the tenants always get high.
If I don't kick 'em to the curb soon, we'll all be doin' time.

I've got addicts in the attic,
and they ain't no friends of mine.

I've got addicts in the attic,
and they ain't no friends of mine.

I've got addicts in the attic,
and they ain't no friends of mine.

I've got addicts in the attic,
and they ain't no friends of mine.

"ADDICTS IN THE ATTIC,"
© 2008, Albino Brown.

Bona Fide Celebrity

Written By: Albino Brown

"BONA FIDE CELEBRITY":
**anthem for the ongoing epidemic in the "celebrity-hood."

I Walk and Talk Pretty
in the Plastic City
With my plastic cards
and my plastic surgery.
I'm livin' large,
livin' the impossible dream
'Cause I'm a bona fide celebrity.

I don't make news.
I make history.
I'm not a role model.
I'm a commodity.
And my very name defies gravity
'Cause I'm a bona fide celebrity.

With my head in the clouds
and my feet in dookie,
I've got a front row seat
in my own fantasy;
And I'm a shootin' star
in my own galaxy.
'Cause I'm a bona fide celebrity.

I'm made fresh daily,
in high fashion magazines,
Livin' other people's whacked fantasies;
And with every autograph and autobiography,
It seems everybody
wants a piece of me.

With the fame and money
and notoriety,
And ratings defining my identity;
Like a pet on a leash
and a puppet on a string,
What you want is what you see.

I said the spotlight has blinded me.
I said the spotlight has blinded me;
And celebrity, is all I can see.
It's my manifest, destiny;
And I can be whatever
you want me to be;
And everybody knows me,
Except me.

So I escape, in my plastic submarine
From party to party
Drinkin' gasoline
With my homies and trophies,
and my beauty queens,
I'm livin' life to the extreme.
I'm currently starring (starring),
in my own tragedy
With my family (family),
of paparazzi.
Like so many before me (before me), with this social disease;
And we're featured every night
on the channel E.

Celebrity is a communicable disease
Of disposable heroes of hypocrisy;
And we're all single (single), divorced from reality,
And runnin' on empty,
in our limousines.

Everybody,
is their own favorite charity,
With broken dreams,
and tarnished legacies.
Nobody knows where we're goin',
or where we've been.
We're tryin' to find meaning,
With other fallen stars,
on the streets of Plastic City.

I said the spotlight has blinded me.
I said the spotlight has blinded me.
I'm gonna melt down, Plastic City.
I've got to melt down, Plastic City.
We're gonna melt down Plastic City,
So I can rediscover me.

"BONA FIDE CELEBRITY,"
© 2008, Albino Brown.