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Создатели

ИСПОЛНИТЕЛИ
Andrew Stephen Campanelli
Andrew Stephen Campanelli
Барабаны
George M Gekas
George M Gekas
Бас
Michael Girardot
Michael Girardot
Труба
Robert Ingraham
Robert Ingraham
Саксофон
Zachary Feinberg
Zachary Feinberg
Гитара
David Shaw
David Shaw
Вокал
Ed Williams
Ed Williams
Педальная слайд-гитара
Mike Dillon
Mike Dillon
Ударные инструменты
МУЗЫКА И СЛОВА
Andrew Stephen Campanelli
Andrew Stephen Campanelli
Композитор
George M Gekas
George M Gekas
Композитор
Michael Girardot
Michael Girardot
Автор песен
Robert Ingraham
Robert Ingraham
Композитор
Zachary Feinberg
Zachary Feinberg
Композитор
David Shaw
David Shaw
Автор песен
Ed Williams
Ed Williams
Композитор
ПРОДЮСЕРЫ И ЗВУКОРЕЖИССЕРЫ
Ben Ellman
Ben Ellman
Продюсер
Chris Finney
Chris Finney
Инженер
Chris George
Chris George
Инженер
Daniel Majorie
Daniel Majorie
Инженер
Dave Cooley
Dave Cooley
Мастеринг-инженер
Jay Wesley
Jay Wesley
Ассистент инженера
Vance Powell
Vance Powell
Миксинг-инженер

Слова

And I should've been murdered by now Oh, I've got fifteen people wondering How the hell'd he make it out I carry this bucket of pain And I've got eighteen dollars to my mother fucking name And it's not a life, it's a game And I'm a two ton wrecking ball filled with pain And I've got a lot to say And I'm still feeling good from yesterday, so (Stand up) if you're out in the crowd (Get down) make the doctor proud (Stand up) if you're out in the crowd (Get down) make the doctor proud Well, I don't know everything, but I sure wish I did But, then every time I'd catch a case I wouldn't pop off so much at the lid I'd have my get out of jail card Popped cool and ready to go And then I'd pay my tax and bail money 'Cause I'm a tax paying fool, so we gotta (Stand up) if you're out in the crowd (Get down) make the doctor proud (Stand up) if you're out in the crowd (Get down) make the doctor proud Stand up Get down Oh, stand up Get down Take it away He's a little boy with a son and a daughter Got no wife, no, he's got no father Just trying to make it through this so hard, hard winter Toes freezing, no reason He's got no dinner He's a product of the music A product of his time A product of addiction in a very long line Of users and abusers who just couldn't keep it straight Oh, man, I wish I didn't know one I hope it ain't too late, so won't you call your mama Call your daddy and call your sister, too 'Cause we've been out here walking that hard line You never ever could've made it through And now we're seven hundred billion strong We still can't tell right from wrong So I'ma keep on dreaming 'til the cows come home When drug store America starts taking care of their own Start taking care of their own Yeah, yeah So we gotta (Stand up) if you're out in the crowd (Get down) make the doctor proud (Stand up) if you're out in the crowd (Get down) make the doctor proud Stand up And get down Oh, stand up And get down Oh, you gotta stand up, ooh, yeah We're living for this feeling, we got nowhere to go Stand up, ooh, yeah I'm living for this feeling, I got nowhere to go Stand up, ooh, yeah We're living for this feeling, we got nowhere to go Stand up
Writer(s): Ed Williams, Andrew Stephen Campanelli, Robert Ingraham, Zachary Feinberg, George M. Gekas, David William Shaw, Michael Girardot Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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