Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Big Bands, artist - Cemetery Drive.
Date of issue: 24.11.2019
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Big Bands |
Shorty thought she a thot, what’s the standard? |
I wish a man would come and front, yeah that’s manhood |
You ain’t that good but you call yourself a rapper |
Yeah I play the drums but I ain’t a drummer dumbass |
Oh was that harsh? |
Ain’t speak my language can’t talk |
I been that crazy vanguard, routine like Brady pass yards |
Routine like 80's dance halls, making your lady branch off |
I whip that lazy hands off, ain’t my Mercedes, thank God! |
Ay yo move! |
Why you standing still, oh you think too cool? |
Don’t wanna' get sweaty no one stepping on your shoes |
Don’t you know that newer things are meant to be used? |
Holes in my kicks, big toes poking through |
Bummy ass kid living rich, yeah |
Spending more cash than I get, yeah |
I don’t see the issue |
Cancel my subscription |
I need all my problems to be limited edition |
My anxiety is holographic |
Cool sounds when you scratch it |
Self-love is ultra rare |
I trade you if you have it |
I was living manic I never had card sleeves |
Now i live in panic I never let y’all see |
My whole life full of bad motifs |
I put the blade in my mouth just floss my teeth |
Too busy tryna' stay human like I’m Jon Batiste |
Or Osterman, got em' sweating like they whole suit fleece |
Caught me dancing with myself, feel like Joaquin |
I’m jokin' lil momma, I’m just tripping blowing off steam |
Feeling like I’m Ozymandias when I’m off screen |
The purple so provocative the whole fucking mosh leaning |
Right stick hit coming to your breastplate |
Cemetery drive motherfucker I’m just dead weight |
Yeah, come alive, come alive, put up barricades |
Half witted, outside, punk bitches, in Escalades |
Ay! |
back off the block like a piston |
Ay! |
fuck up anybody that don’t listen |
Ay! |
all of my rhinestones glisten |
Ay! |
dying in the mosh pit is my mission |
I told my mother I’m a rock star, I think i shocked her |
Double life, man is motherfucking Peter Parker |
Pop star, breakin' hearts, boy is such a charmer |
Acting like a virgin when your name is not Madonna |
These pussies setting traps like they Veigar |
Never get surprised boy I see you on the radar |
Pull up to bank with some clips and a blazer |
Bout' to flip the lid like a Motorola Razr |
I’m a big fuck off monster bout' to fucking dynamax |
May have lost my little mind but that was just a minor lapse |
Fuck a crowd surf, jump off stage and hit them with a down attack |
Electric type, paralysis, man we got them spinal taps |
Fuck you and your momma’s house |
This the type of shit they play that make you kick your momma out |
Pussy boys ain’t spitting heat, fuck you talking bout' |
Unless you talkin' bout how they leaving the pussies cotton-mouthed |
Got em' like I don’t need it |
Your whole square a bunch of hoes like a shotgun seen it |
Pop trunk, y’all suck, fuck all ya’ll pissants |
My shit is gas city while y’all sussied in the mid-lands |
Ay, big bands, big bands, big bands |
Wonderin' how the fuck in seven days I made six grand |
Shit man this shit’s payin' cos' this young sir’s head got bars like a hitman |
Ay! |
back off the block like a piston |
Ay! |
fuck up anybody that don’t listen |
Ay! |
all of my rhinestones glisten |
Ay! |
dying in the mosh pit is my mission |
Really been ‘bout, that rhythm I ride, my cynical mind |
Been filling up all of my time, yeah I was born the wrong year |
I see sociopathy, cocky but you like a poppy seed |
A spec insignificant, so check what you gifted with |
And check what you not I’m not impressed by your wit with this |
So, sit and listen closely mostly posted killin' shit |
Ill intent, tense muscles, caught up in the hustle bustle |
What’s the cause and what’s the fuss? |
I trust that I can piece the puzzle |