Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Sometimes, artist - Big Narstie. Album song Don't Fuck up the Base, in the genre ДабстепDate of issue: 01.06.2013
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Dice
Song language: English
Sometimes |
| Meth lab in the back and the crack smoke pills through the streets like an |
| early morning fog |
| Momma’s in the slaughter house with a hatchet helping daddy chop early morning |
| hog |
| I’m catching Zs like an early morning saw when I woke up to the racket yawn and |
| pause |
| What the fuck man I can never get sleep man, peeped out the window what’s wrong |
| with ya’ll? |
| Stood up in my Crimson Tide Alabama sweat pants and threw my pillow |
| Looks like daddy caught the motherfucker that tried to sneak in and steal his |
| elbows |
| They don’t know that old man don’t hold hands or throw hands naw he’s rough |
| like a brilo |
| Went to the Chevy and pulled out a machete and that gun is heavy and tall as |
| the midget willow |
| Think he’s playing? |
| You better listen what he’s saying punk |
| Don’t make me go pop the trunk… on you |
| He got an old Mossberg in the mossy oak duffle bag laying in the back of the |
| donk boy |
| Don’t make me go pop the trunk… on you |
| 11:30 and I’m pulling up dirty smoking babbage out the back of my buddies Monty |
| Carlo |
| Spitting over some super hot beats with a super hot freak we call the parking |
| lot hoe |
| You know we sipping on that old brown bottle, bass in the trunk make the whole |
| town wobble |
| So when we ride around bitches follow, and tonight one of the bitches is giving |
| us problem |
| Well one of them bitches be fucking one of my homeboys favorite bitches |
| And has been on his hit list for a minute and I think he’s ready to handle his |
| business |
| He told me Yelawolf get this and he handed me the Cartier watch that was on his |
| wrist |
| He said watch this shit and he jumped to the trunk and grabbed his biscuit… |
| Biscuit! |
| Two men stand, one’s gotta go |
| One falls down to the ground, one walks down to the road |
| Momma better call the police |
| Now he’s screaming no |
| Took a buckshot to the chest with a rock salt shell and he’s moving slow |
| All this blood has spilled, enough to give a penguin chills |
| Hot enough to make a potato smoke at the tip of a hollowed steel |
| In the valley of the hollowed fields |
| In the valley of the hollowed till |
| This ain’t a figment of my imagination buddy, this is where I live Bama! |