Hotline Miami

Lyrics

[Verse 1: Dan Bull] Hi kids, do you like violence? Seeing people dying to the cries of the sirens? Leaving the crime scene nothing like you arrived Full of bile, blood and another bunch of satisfied clients? Well then you dialed the right hotline Miami has a lot of numbers and of all of them you got mine My top advice is not to get bothered with plot line Just call us up and then I'll see if I can drop by It all started with a call to East Seventh Street I was blessed with a request that didn't need any pleasantries There's no intense a feeling as dealing senseless beatings To people who you previously wouldn't ever meet Talk about being dead on your feet The second that I enter people seem to end in a heap I guess they can't deal well with the American heat That makes you sweat red and then puts you forever to sleep I guess I'm one heck of an interior decorator Interfere with investigators, escalate a petty situation into mayhem Exit stage left and step on the accelerator The rest is even better, but I'd better tell you later Because I've got another message and it won't wait Someone needs me to clean their mess up in my own way No fidgeting or messing and there's no delay Fifty blessings later hit the motorway and rode away [Pre-Chorus: TryHardNinja & Sparkles*] There's one new message on your answer machine, it says: How long d'you reckon that your hands'll be clean, it says: It's dirty work, but someone's got to do the job To go beserk and roll in the filth with the mob [Chorus: TryHardNinja & Sparkles*] Under neon lights One phone call will decide who lives or dies 'Cause greed turns into pain and no one can escape The crimson rain that pours over my soul On these hot Miami nights Wo-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh These hot Miami nights Wo-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh 'Cause greed turns into pain and no one can escape The crimson rain that pours over my soul On these hot Miami nights [Verse 2: Dan Bull] Strip lights flicker as I sip my liquor This life's sick and you can get by quicker If you live like a sinner with your finger by the trigger Or the throat of a foe, so it's goodbye, Richter Wherever I go I seem to stand alone Whether I head to the pizza shack or hang at home Answer to no one but the answer phone, man, I love that hang up tone More than a saxophone solo and a bag of blow I'm holding a bat and donning an animal mask So you can probably tell I've had a problematical past But these aren't irrational acts, I'm enacting the task That I've been handed by the man requiring absolute tact And as a matter of fact, I'm really flattered he asked me Because I'm a one man catastrophe factory Think the Mafia's bad? You must be having a laugh, see The man behind each massive massacre? That's me [Pre-Chorus: TryHardNinja & Sparkles*] There's one new message on your answer machine, it says: How long d'you reckon that your hands'll be clean, it says: It's dirty work, but someone's got to do the job To go beserk and roll in the filth with the mob [Chorus: TryHardNinja & Sparkles*] Under neon lights One phone call will decide who lives or dies 'Cause greed turns into pain and no one can escape The crimson rain that pours over my soul On these hot Miami nights Wo-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh These hot Miami nights Wo-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh 'Cause greed turns into pain and no one can escape The crimson rain that pours over my soul On these hot Miami nights