1. |
Probate
02:42
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There's a lady who's sure all that glitters is gold
And she's buying a stairway to heaven.
When she gets there she knows, if the stores are all closed
With a word she can get what she came for.
Ooh, ooh, and she's buying a stairway to heaven.
There's a sign on the wall but she wants to be sure
'Cause you know sometimes words have two meanings.
In a tree by the brook, there's a songbird who sings,
Sometimes all of our thoughts are misgiven.
Ooh, it makes me wonder,
Ooh, it makes me wonder.
There's a feeling I get when I look to the west,
And my spirit is crying for leaving.
In my thoughts I have seen rings of smoke through the trees,
And the voices of those who stand looking.
Ooh, it makes me wonder,
Ooh, it really makes me wonder.
And it's whispered that soon, if we all call the tune,
Then the piper will lead us to reason.
And a new day will dawn for those who stand long,
And the forests will echo with laughter.
If there's a bustle in your hedgerow, don't be alarmed now,
It's just a spring clean for the May queen.
Yes, there are two paths you can go by, but in the long run
There's still time to change the road you're on.
And it makes me wonder.
Your head is humming and it won't go, in case you don't know,
The piper's calling you to join him,
Dear lady, can you hear the wind blow, and did you know
Your stairway lies on the whispering wind?
And as we wind on down the road
Our shadows taller than our soul.
There walks a lady we all know
Who shines white light and wants to show
How everything still turns to gold.
And if you listen very hard
The tune will come to you at last.
When all are one and one is all
To be a rock and not to roll.
And she's buying a stairway to heaven.
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2. |
Out for Justice
03:34
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Jordan Tate: So who are you? Are you, you, like, some special forces guy or something?
Casey Ryback: Nah. I'm just a cook.
Jordan Tate: A cook?
Casey Ryback: [Whispering] Just a lowly, lowly cook.
Jordan Tate: Oh, my God, we're gonna die.
Doumer: You're incredible, Ryback. It's a shame you're not cooking for *us*.
[Jordan shoots Doumer in the back]
Casey Ryback: [to Jordan] Next thing I know, you'll be dating musicians.
Ensign Taylor: Petty Officer Ryback.
Casey Ryback: Ensign Taylor.
Ensign Taylor: SIR!
Casey Ryback: You don't have to "sir" me, Ensign Taylor. We're casual in the galley, you know.
Ensign Taylor: I'd watch it, Ryback. We still have a week together.
Casey Ryback: I guess that means I won't get to see you go through puberty.
Casey Ryback: What made you flip like this?
William Strannix: I got tired of coming up with last-minute desperate solutions to impossible problems created by other fucking people.
Casey Ryback: All of your ridiculous pitiful antics aren't gonna change a thing. You and me, we're *puppets* in the same sick game. We serve the same master, and he's a lunatic and he's ungrateful. But there's nothing we can do about it. You and me, we're the same.
William Strannix: Oh, no. No. No. No. There's a difference, my man. You have faith. I don't!
[a knife fight erupts between them]
[Commander Krill spits in Ryback's soup]
Commander Krill: A little flavor.
Commander Krill: [taunts Ryback] You like that?
Casey Ryback: [shoves Krill] You're crazy...
Ensign Taylor: HEY! That's *striking an Officer*!
Commander Krill: Whoa, whoa.
Casey Ryback: COME ON! That's not striking an Officer...
[knocks Krill to the ground hard]
Casey Ryback: THAT'S striking an Officer!
[Ryback fights off the Marine guards successfully, then gives up and is restrained]
Ensign Taylor: THROW HIM IN THE BRIG!
Casey Ryback: [as he is being handcuffed] NOBODY goes to the brig without the Old Man's signature!
Commander Krill: Good point. Secure him in the meat locker. NOW! Right now.
[as Ryback is being led in]
Commander Krill: Now I know why you're a cook. You hit like a FAGGOT!
Casey Ryback: [Krill has informed Ryback that all the men in the Forecastle are about to drown] We've got to save them.
Granger: You know they're gonna have a trap for us.
Casey Ryback: Yeah, but they're expecting *me*, not all of us.
Tackman: All of what? I do laundry. I was ironing during the Gulf War. I ain't cut out for this hero bullshit.
Casey Ryback: You're in the Navy, remember? It's not a job, it's an adventure!
Tweety Bird: Any sign of Wile E. Coyote?
William Strannix: No. Meet at the bird cage as planned, Roadrunner, out!
Krill: You're the roadrunner?
William Strannix: Yeah, never been caught. Mee-meep.
Admiral Bates: Now, since your ass is on the line, sailor, I authorize you right now, to do whatever you can to aid in the arrival of the SEAL Team. Because if I goddamn can't control you, I might as well support you. Correct?
Casey Ryback: That's affirmative, Sir!
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3. |
Bro Bono
03:59
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Yeah. Motherfuckers better know... huh, huh. Lock your windows,
close your doors. Biggie Smalls, huh...yeah.
[Verse One:]
My man Inf left a Tec and a nine at my crib
Turned himself in, he had to do a bid
A one-to-three, he be home the end of '93
I'm ready to get this paper, G, you with me?
Motherfucking right, my pocket's looking kind of tight
and I'm stressed, yo Biggie let me get the vest
No need for that, just grab the fucking gat
The first pocket that's fat the Tec is to his back
Word is bond, I'm a smoke him yo don't fake no moves (what?)
Treat it like boxing: stick and move, stick and move
Nigga, you ain't got to explain shit
I've been robbing motherfuckers since the slave ships
with the same clip and the same four-five
Two point-blank, a motherfucker's sure to die
That's my word, nigga even try to bogart
have his mother singing "It's so hard..."
Yes, love love you're fucking attitude
because the nigga play pussy that's the nigga that's getting screwed
and bruised up from the pistol whipping
webs on the neck from the necklace stripping
Then I'm dipping up the block and I'm robbing bitches too
up the herring bones and bamboos
I wouldn't give fuck if you're pregnant
Give me the baby rings and a #1 MOM pendant
I'm slamming niggas like Shaquille, shit is real
When it's time to eat a meal I rob and steal
'cos Mom Duke ain't giving me shit
so for the bread and butter I leave niggas in the gutter
Huh, word to mother, I'm dangerous
Crazier than a bag of fucking Angel Dust
When I bust my gat motherfuckers take dirt naps
I'm all that and a dime sack, where the paper at?
[Verse Two:]
Big up, big up, it's a stick up, stick up
and I'm shooting niggas quick if you hiccup
Don't let me fill my clip up in your back and head piece
The opposite of peace sending Mom Duke a wreath
You're talking to the robbery expert
Stepping to your wake with your blood on my shirt
Don't be a jerk and get smoked over being resistant
'cos when I lick shots the shits is persistent
Huh, goodness gracious the papers
Where the cash at? Where the stash at?
Nigga, pass that before you get your grave dug
from the main thug, .357 slug
And my nigga Biggie got an itchy one grip
One in the chamber, 32 in the clip
Motherfuckers better strip, yeah nigga peel
before you find out how blue steel feel
from the Beretta, putting all the holes in your sweater
The money getter motherfuckers don't have better
Rolex watches and colourful Swatches
I'm digging in pockets, motherfuckers can't stop it
Man, niggas come through I'm taking high school rings too
Bitches get stripped down for they earrings and bangles
and when I rock her and drop her I'm taking her door knockers
And if she's resistant "baka! baka! baka!"
So go get your man bitch he can get robbed too
Tell him Biggie took it, what the fuck he gonna do?
I hope apologetic or I'm a have to set it
and if I said it the cocksucker won't forget it
[Verse Three:]
Man, listen all this walking is hurting my feet
But money looks sweet (where at?) in the Isuzu jeep
Man, I throw him in the Beem, you grab the fucking C.R.E.A.M
and if he start to scream "bam! bam!", have a nice dream
Hold up, he got a fucking bitch in the car
Fur coats and diamonds, she thinks she a superstar
Ooh Biggie, let me jack her, I kick her in the back
Hit her with the gat...
Yo chill, Shorty, let me do that...
Just get the fucking car keys and cruise up the block
The bitch act shocked, getting shot on the spot
(Oh shit! The cops!) Be cool, fool
They ain't gonna roll up, all they want is fucking doughnuts
(So why the fuck he keep looking?) I guess to get his life tooken
I just came home, ain't trying to see Central Booking
Oh shit, now he looking in my face
You better haul ass 'cos I ain't with no fucking chase
So lace up your boots, 'cos I'm about to shoot
A true motherfucker going out for the loot
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Franklin and Bash: the band Seattle, Washington
Four dudes playing kiler tunes in between depositions and keg stands.
Jack Port:
Divorce / DUI Attorney
S. Mike: Entertainment Attorney
Mitt "Hung Jury" :Middlemen: Ambulance Chasin'
Mattholomew Frankenstien IV: Trial Attorney
... more
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