SPEEDOS EP

by Jackson

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  • Streaming + Download

    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.

      $4 USD  or more

     

  • Record/Vinyl + Digital Album

    7" Red Vinyl, lathe cut, mono, "Speedos EP". Contains the tracks : "MLB X", "Die For You X", "Polaroids X" and "Japanese Speedos X"
    Released on " Sweet Sugar Records"

    Includes unlimited streaming of SPEEDOS EP via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
    ships out within 3 days

      $10 USD or more 

     

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02:11
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02:28
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about

JACKSON ELECTROCUTED

credits

released April 24, 2017

Produced by : Jackson

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all rights reserved

about

Jackson Los Angeles, California

Jackson is a rock n roll / punk artist from London. His output spans dirty rock n roll to f'cked up electronic.
He has appeared on numerous tracks by The Prodigy.

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Track Name: MLB X
Let's drive some fuckin dirt in that beat
Let's drive some fuckin dirt in that beat uh

I landed my ass in the LAX
With a tattoo of Jesus into my chest
Teeth on the sidewalk, bones in the car
I'm sure that shit was an Impala
Sped down the freeway like it's Africa
Churning dope voodoo eating chicken frita
Pulled in for gas we were getting low
I'm pretty f'ckin sure it was a Texaco baby

Yaaahhh, Motorcycle Leather Baby
Yi Yi Yi Yi, No, Motorcycle Leather Baby

Got Madonna living on my dash
She's a bobble head virgin eating all my stash
Bullet hole air holes and a lot of funk
It's the orangutan living in my trunk
Went to the bank cos I need dollar
Took my friend the manipulator
Shit broke loose when the police showed
There were bullets a flying, we just had to go baby

Yaaahhh, Motorcycle Leather Baby
Yi Yi Yi Yi, No, Motorcycle Leather Baby

Listen that clean ass beat man it's driving my fuckin mind insane
Let's drive some fuckin dirt in that beat
Let's drive some fuckin dirt in that beat uh

Made my way down to Las Vegas
There's lots a hoochie and a lotta glass
It's all just a vision, I can get to that
Just give me your number and I'll get ya right back baby

Yaaahhh, Motorcycle Leather Baby
Yi Yi Yi Yi Yi Yi, oh slap me c'mon
Motorcycle leather baby

Motorcycle leather baby, Motorcycle leather baby
Yi Yi Yi Yi Yi Yi, uh
Motorcycle leather baby

Listen that clean ass beat man it's driving my fuckin mind insane
Let's drive some fuckin dirt in that beat
Let's drive some fuckin dirt in that beat uh
Track Name: DIE FOR YOU X
Ain't gonna motherfuckin die for you
No I ain't walking in no dead weight, dead man shoe
No I ain't spilling no blood, cos my blood is true
And I aint following no motherfuckin fucked up rules
Ain't gonna motherfuckin die for you
Ain't gonna motherfuckin

Die for You
Ain't Walking no dead man shoes
No spilling no blood for you
Cos I'm living my life with the fucked up rules
Living on the edge of the burning few

Sun drenched dirt and dustbin fires
I got an AK 47 and they're calling me a liar
With a burned out building in development block
Yeh they're holding out my hand and there waving a glock
Streets are on fire, streets are on fire
Yeh they're cutting off my hand and they're calling me a liar
Cos the streets are on fire, streets are on fire
Let's go march to the funeral pyre

Die for You
Ain't Walking no dead man shoes
No spilling no blood for you
Cos I'm living my life with the fucked up rules
Living on the edge of the burning few

Might have green and gold in a flag
But the land it a suffers and the people getting tougher
With a god in a heart and a smoke in a lungs
And the guns they a fire
And the people they're a dying
With a fucked up trainers and militia crop
Gold gap smile as the machete drop
Give em breeze down blow dollar block
As the guns they a fire and the streets are a mire

Die for You
Ain't Walking no dead man shoes
No spilling no blood for you
Cos I'm living my life with the fucked up rules
Living on the edge of the burning few
Die for You
Ain't Walking no dead man shoes
No spilling my blood for you
Cos I'm living my life with the fucked up rules
Living on the edge of the burning few

Ain't gonna motherfuckin die for you
No I ain't walking in no dead weight, dead man shoe
No I ain't spilling my blood, cos my blood is true
And I aint following no motherfuckin fucked up rules

Ain't gonna motherfuckin die for you
No I ain't walking in no dead weight, dead man shoe
No I ain't spilling my blood, cos my blood is true
And I aint following no motherfuckin fucked up rules

Get down Get down
Track Name: POLAROIDS X
I saw my picture in a magazine
TV rock star in a limousine
Fake titties and a plastic shoes
With black out eyes yeh I follow the rules
Cellophane dresses, make em more
Just gimme money an I'll open the door
Polaroid images of how I should be
Come on shoot me
I'll be free
Those arthouse nudes baby, they just don't interest me,no

I see your picture in a magazine
Fake titties and a limousine

I hear Warhol's in town again, yeh yeh
Masquerading under a female pseudonym
Yow get down

I see your picture in a magazine
Fake titties and a limousine
Plastic shoes with a broken heel, get down
Those whacked out eyes, yeh they're sealing the deal, get down

I feel the need for some insecurity, yeh
Let's post a cheap shot at the Gaga tribe, yeh
I saw her picture in a magazine
Polaroids
She was screaming with a banshee scream
Polaroids
Now my lips are turning blue
That's because I'm thinking of you honey

I see your picture in a magazine, get down
Fake titties and a limousine, get down
Plastic shoes, a broken heel, get down
Those whacked out eyes, yeh they're sealing the deal, get down

I saw your pictures in my dreams
Sleazy Polaroids
Nothing left just whacked out scenes
Polaroids
Pretty Angels in my head
Polaroids
Wanting me just to be dead
Polaroids
Sellophane dresses make em more
Polaroids
Just give me money and I'll open the door
Polaroids
Oh pretty Jesus come save me
Polaroids
Those whacked out satellites track
Polaroids

I see your picture in a magazine, get down
Fake titties and a limousine, get down
Plastic shoes, a broken heel, get down
Those whacked out eyes, yeh they're sealing the deal, get down

Praise Warhol, he's here again
Or just a fake stealing his name
Old news, same rules, put together whack tunes
Glossy picture in your head
Pull the trigger now your dead
Track Name: JAPANESE SPEEDOS X
Namco robot girl
Stand in a queue Banana Split's show
Tokyo den where the sun don't go
Must have speedos, strict dress code
Silver bikini space dust glue
Spit from her mouth and onto my shoe
Turned into aliens, they were bright blue
They were wearing beachwear
Looking real cool

I need Japanese speedos, speedos
Cos I got a kung fu babe
I need Japanese speedos, speedos
Cos I got a hot wasabi shake
I need Japanese speedos, speedos
Cos I got kung fu, gimme your kung fu
I need Kawasaki speedos
Cos I've got a namco robot babe

This aint Berlin burlesque
No leopard skin pants or chest hair through my vest
Just asteroid donut clouds
Disco space dust in my head
Gold lame pants and robot legs
Bonus credit for the nunchaku breasts
Hi Ya, ooh yeh

I need Japanese speedos, speedos
Cos I got a kung fu babe
I need Japanese speedos, speedos
Cos I got a hot wasabi shake
I need Japanese speedos, speedos
Cos I got kung fu, gimme your kung fu
I need Kawasaki speedos
Cos I've got a namco robot babe

Hi Ya, ooh Ya
It goes
Hi Ya, I Ya
It's
Hi Ya, ooh yeh

I need Japanese speedos, speedos
I need Japanese speedos, speedos
I need Japanese speedos, speedos
I need Japanese speedos,
I need Kawasaki Speedos
Cos I've got a namco robot babe