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Bird Flu

This song is by M.I.A. and appears on the album Kala (2007).

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Bird Flu
Big on the underground, what's the point of knocking me down?
Everyone 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

I'm too cool to be a Roc-A-Wear model
It didn't really drop that way, my legs hit the hurdle
I'm too cool to be a rocker on a label
It didn't really drop that way, my beats were too evil

Now 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 em off my 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 badlands

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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