Tekster: Crazy Town. Hollywood Babylon.

(seth binzer, bret mazur, mad lion) 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 sza The wood is hot and you can spot the flocks of people like sheep Those with dreadlocks to jocks with reeboks, fleeing hard rocks A la cafe, bambatta flashy fashion Imagine crashing bashes with bitches that be bad and wishing for the fame and recognition There on a mission for self, baby Were like the twelve, my tribe is crazy deep we got the beats that are hot were 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 catching a fit I really don't know but you better scram hurry in a double. Chorus: It goes on and on and on hell rasing hollywood welcome to babylon It goes on and on and on the party don't stop till the mysteries gone. I've seen it all, i'll see it again i shake allot of hands but i don't got allot of friends. It goes 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 mike with a firm hold in a world of shattered goals, pot holes, broke fokes and bank roll Pole position Daddy rolling, rolling causing havoc so, ready set I'm more than set like morissette to maverick Gotta, she's got to have it, habbit 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 shorty illuminati front dead bodes in my trunk. Unraveling the source I travel in to self Gauge my wage and you try to debate my wealth The consequences linger and i'm fingering the perpetrators Hey yo, my nature was bread on the cross fadder It's the seventh house Armageddon trudger ready for death it's the brimstone slugger Chorus