In the subway, the creatures crawl to
The sound of music of hunger and pain
Urban wasteland of human suffering
The new disease micro chips in your brain

You got the money, we got the muscle
You call it murder when it's just another hustle
Is this murder or some High Street funky hustle?

Blackhearts And Jaded Spades
Street rats and jungle raids
Blackhearts And Jaded Spades
Hot shots and mirror shades

Run for cover, my gypsy lover
Your fatal kiss burns like fire and flame
Called survival and you're my rival
No shotgun wedding will save you the shame

You got the money, we got the muscle
You call it murder when it's just another hustle
Is this murder or some High Street funky hustle?

Blackhearts And Jaded Spades
Street rats and jungle raids
Blackhearts And Jaded Spades
Hot shots and mirror shades

Blackhearts!


Lyrics submitted by Grind838

Blackhearts And Jaded Spades song meanings
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