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M.I.A. » Bird Flu
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	BIG on the underground What's the point of knocking me down? Everybody knows I'm already good on the ground Most of us stay strong Shit don't really bound us Then I go on my own Making bombs with rubber bands I have my hard down So I need a man for romance Streets are making em hard So they selfish little roamers Jumpin' girl to girl Make us meat like burgers When I get fat I'll pop me out some leaders A protocol to be a Rocawear model? It didn't really drop that way My legs hit the hurdle A protocol to be a rocker on a label? It didn't really drop that way Our beats were too evil But I put away paper for later so I'm stable A better something better come So I could get cable Ghetto pops, food drops I store them in my stable I cook em up, pop em down Eat me it off ya a table The village got on the phone Said the street is comin' to town They wanna check my papers See what I carry around Credentials are boring I burnt them at the burial ground Don't order me about I'm an outlaw from the badland Put away shots for later So I'm stable Live in trees chew on feet Watch lost on cable Bird flu gonna get you Made it in my stable From the crap you drop On my crop when they pay you.
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