bland

The stuffy old money where the poor get snubbed

The spread is bland, sauerkraut and boiled goose

There's no way these people will ever cut loose

It was unnecessary, should've let it stay buried

Oh, what a valiant roar, what a bland goodbye

The coward claimed he was a lion

No, we didn't light it, but we're trying to fight it

Sandy Hook, Columbine, Sandra Bland and Tamir Rice

ISIS, LeBron James, Shinzō Abe blown away

I don't know why they keep playing, they better re-plan

I'm giving 'em the blues, Bobby Blue Bland

Together we stand and fall on y'all

♪

My love life was getting so bland

There are only so many ways I can make love with my hand

All that time in the kitchen finally panned out

I put some flavor in a pot and took the bland out

I know my grandpa would have a heart attack if I pulled a hundred grand out

Do again and again

It's big and it's bland

Full of tension and fear

He'd rather eat a sand sandwich salad

It might need salt like your man's bland ballad

A lot of stuff happens that the news won't tell you's

Everywhere You go is where we go, we keep our hands out

Rather pinch some salt than hold the earth, can't take the bland route

Can't breathe without You, I can't sing without You

With a pistol on me and a half a brick

And 'Ye blam-blamming by Sandra Bland

Listen, boy, your challenge with the runnin' man

Go ham donut or go Rambo, gotta make an example of her

That's for Sandra Bland ho and Philando

Hannibal on the lamb, no wonder I am so stubborn

Suck the fear in through your eyes

Everyone is bland and blind

Don't go outside

Hand out lobotomies to save little families

Surrealistic fantasy, bland, boring, plain

Holy now in restitution

Nickname "Spice" 'cause I'm always in the mix on top

So without me, it's bland (damn)

That gyatt all on his hand (grrah)

They been fingerprinted, they all in the system

Rest in peace Sandra Bland and Michael Brown

I pray I don't become a victim

When she was putting her lippy on

Well, time tastes bland

♪

But then again

Not as bland as curate, either

And good for business too

And your style's like fried chicken without seasoning

Nigga, that's bland, fuck you up and your mans

I smack you like a bitch, nigga, that's open-hand

When you put into words

It's comfortingly bland

There's so little left to understand

We'll give 'em blues then

Ah, fuck it, call me Bobby "Blue" Bland

Aye, you a fool, man

On the town and tedium

Ghastly bland chameleons

Lost, I'm in

Hell you talmbout, hell you talmbout

Sandra Bland, say her name

Sandra Bland, say her name

That stroke and stretch

Our hope is bland

You This stone of sand

Some won't understand and it my deplete a man

By seeping through the cracks of bland

They found reasons to try

(Ooh, blank marquee) Gotta be honest with you

(Ooh, blank marquee) Gotta be bland with you

(Ooh, blank marquee) Yeah, yeah

Hot damn, black America again

Think of Sandra Bland as I'm staring in the wind

The color of my skin, they comparing it to sin

I think they moved out to the suburbs

And now they're blonde, bland, middle-class Republican wives

They all have blonde, bland, middle-class Republican children

Have you really got room in your life?

Yeah and it's a bland kind of torture

You've played the mother and wife

When problems that confound you only speed your slow decay

Future's relegated to a bland pathetic waste

Can't find a better way

I've got bass lines bubbling up on out of my hands

Don't want to never play nothin' that sounds too bland

Shazam! I sprinkle on some magic dust

Be just like our parents

Responsible and bland

No risk, no excitement

♪

I couldn't stand this bland sound any more so I walked towards my deck to turn it off

All I could see was the B-side of the disc which had assumed a doughnut shape with the label on the outside rim

Everybody wants the feeling without touching the pain

Everybody wants the sweetness without tasting the bland

Everybody wants the help but they ain't lending a hand

Songs we used to sing used to mean something

Now they just bland like the drummer

♪

And I'll wring out their hands and my eyes with the sobbing

But how can a bland unremarkable typical Tuesday be Day of the Dead?

Baby

I hung the clothes on the line, they blowed down to the ground

I try to eat my own cookin' but its awful bland

I'm tellin' you right now things are out of hand

The life you lead

Straightforward and bland

Everything happens according to plan

So deep inside

Just think bland thoughts

Bad, good

For years, I've eat nothing but manna

A dish that is filling but bland

But now we're on our way, I'll have a cheese souffle

In your hands

Ain't life bland

What matter or

I'm nice, you're the reason why the game went soft

Bland niggas, I come through and season your broth

Like Mr. Dash, I blast, I'm a menace like Dennis

Got an infinity of non-rhymes to hit ya

While your whole clan is bland

Understand that you must be smokin' pounds of weed out of a pipe

Instead of a racist cop telling you to hold 'em high

And I wish that Sandra Bland was still alive

And on the day of her death that was not a suicide

Well, Daskarzine, she was pretty bland

As she stretched out in the corner of the room

And I'm screaming in the palm of my hand

Waiting for another chance to be bland

What seems worse?

The moon shed light on my hopeless plight

As the radio blared so bland

Every disc a poker chip

I? m Bitter and I don? t even want to be here

I? m bland

I? m bland

Jag gör vad jag kan, drömmer mig bort

I Hagnesta Hill bland de identiska husen

Rycker vi till, reklamen avbryts för sport

I'll be yours, I'll be yours dot com

Executive accommodation, bland but nonetheless appealing

Waiters discretely at your beck and call

Men om vi ger oss hän

Bland sot och krossad sten

Den tid kan komma sen

♪

What pawns have we become in this bland little play?

What pawns have we become in this bland little play?

He's completely motionless, what the hell's he waiting for

Mr Bland's an issue solver from the ministry of grey

Commissioned by a caring team to turn up every day

I won't have nobody tricking no sand in ya

Face, not even a trace of bland in ya

Teenage and it's a trouble understanding ya

You've got the beauty, but that don't mean a thing

A bland reciprocation, but that dosen't bother me

You're happier with lights on underneath a darkened sky

Evil

Its tentacles are bland

It's like a weevil

Girl on the phone keeps a-ringing back

Her voice is smooth but the tone is bland

She's telling me this and she's telling me that

Moving in, kicking, stamping

Bland expressionless faces

A handful of marbles thrown in a dustbin