Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Weapon of Choice, artist - BVA. Album song Be Very Aware, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 13.02.2014
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: High Focus
Song language: English
Weapon of Choice |
What’s your weapon of choice do you use to soothe your mental? |
I choose weed cause it helps plus prevents too |
The method you use to get wrecked and confused |
I forget about the blues when I’m dipping in a sack of |
What weapon of choice do you use to soothe your mental? |
I choose weed cause it helps plus prevents too |
The method you use to get wrecked and confused |
I forget about the blues when I’m dipping in a sack of the |
Green gold, poor-man's champagne |
Tell that kid, I don’t want none of his shit if it’s damp again |
The way it soothes the pain |
It’s man- I can’t explain |
The weather in life is shit but I don’t feel the rain |
Cause I’m relaxin' |
Sticky green packed in |
The papers, the vapours? |
Hits my lung and it’s reactin'- 'ahhhh' |
Now I’m all high, me munchin' on Chinese |
I’ll just lie on my back, bitch you can ride me |
An aphrodisiac, makes me wanna feed the cat |
'Where's Beaver at?' |
He’s probably sleepin' with an empty sack |
Plenty of raps cause I’m focused pumpin' tracks |
Crumblin' buds that’s fat, exhale and speak the facts |
That’s just how I was raised man, I’m a Glastonbury veteran |
Never handing money 'till it’s past the inspection |
Dodge the tick collection, an everyday investment |
You can hear it my words, there’s a connection |
It’s like a struggle with my mind inside a cider bubble |
Psychedelic cypher, scuffle die beside a pile of rubble |
Fuck a nipple man, I’m off to buy some wine to suckle |
Lying on my back singing Busta Rhymes, mine’s a double |
I’m buying fuck all! |
Mission on a mine sweep |
Fishy mister pisces |
Living in the nineties |
Alright Beevs |
Let’s find a little nature spot |
Cause you’ve been blazin' pot and I’ve been wasted off this crate of scotch |
Playing dead? |
Maybe not |
Behaving like a crazy knob |
Falling out my trousers everyday so raise the Bailey’s, wot! |
That’s just the way that I was raised |
And I’ll stay the same baby 'till I’m laying in my grave |
This is swiggin'; |
fruit liquor, booze and anything resemblin' |
Liquor few, live and prove everything I’m mentionin' |
So give the glass back, I’ll smash it in your fucking mouth |
Pull my trousers down and start shoutin' in your mother’s house |
The liquid acid sent my brain into a twisted passage |
I was flipping backwards, kissin' rabbits |
Thinkin' this is average |
Normally travellin' to oblivion |
Javelin to the brain, babbling to a Simian |
Enter the psychedelic kaleidoscope |
It’s kinda dope |
The liner notes said «recline and smoke» |
The DMT, (DMT!) |
To strike the mind like an EMP 'Bzzz!' |
20 leagues beneath the sea on Kepler 22B |
Nearing chrysanthemum |
Tumbling down the multi-coloured maelstrom |
Of the infinite, energy rays |
Geometric life-forms, you know I fucked up |
Nobody’s in but the light’s on |
Communicating with God, he’s there, right in my face |
My soul’s about to explode, they put me right in my place |
Pure astonishment, acknowledgement of a novice accomplishment |
Diving off the deep-end |
Dying on the weekend |