Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Death Moves, artist - Dabbla. Album song Death Moves, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 30.09.2018
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Potentfunk
Song language: English
Death Moves |
Don’t get me started |
The new wave sound retarded |
What d’you mean I can’t say retarded? |
Whole world’s gone spasticated |
What you an expert in spastic behaviour now? |
Next you’ll be telling me I’m not special |
Yeah, it’s kind of dreadful |
Is-it's just a vessel |
P-p-play the game son |
What you think that I get my name from? |
Man a get a cold monkey shoulder now |
You can break all the rules and not change one |
Back to square uno |
Wrap them up, pack your bag for the bureau |
Heard about this and that but |
End of the day they didn’t do the do though |
Shame that, that’s some shit you can’t claim back |
Can’t say jack, can’t change the fact that you’re regurgitating that same crap, |
now |
It’s hard to stay inspired |
Or maybe it’s the way I’m wired |
Or maybe its the way I’m made |
But that wave you’re on is just a waste of fire |
Hold up, you’ll never turn me into a product |
Swear to god he got knocked out still got up |
See the way the boy work rate, just shut up |
Shit, I didn’t even mean to blow the whole squad up |
Duh duh duhdu, add another dollop, wallop |
Everything I’ve said man I’ve honoured |
Put the whole game on its head with the fodder |
Oh gosh, that’s a lot of gash you’ve swallowed |
As I was saying, these lot love a bit a drama playing |
In the background, and they can’t live without it |
That mind control, and that darn brain (Mmmm) |
Only human, gotta work on your own improvement |
You can move on the day to day or |
Sign up, join a movement |
And upgrade to a humanoid |
And join all the slaves who stayed employed |
And pump babies out and let strangers raise them |
Cos you ain’t got time and there ain’t a choice |
And you’re pissed cos you think the whole world’s against you |
And it is convincing, you’re paranoid |
Mad annoyed cos you want that ride and die chick |
To shake that shit like a polaroid, I know |
It’s not real, can’t convince them they’ve got pills |
Mix them into your routine |
Crush 'em into your square meals |
Tell me how does that d-dat'that there feel |
Knocking back with them spare wheels |
Spare me all of them details |
All I care about are these force fields |
Oi |
Death moves |
Defibrillators and test tubes |
You flick the pages I fill them up |
I’ve been sick for ages, your rent’s due |
Flight mode, silky smooth as my night robe |
Still rock a crack in my iPhone |
While I unicycle that tightrope |
Ay |
The fuck you writing? |
You lot are so unexciting |
How’d you get so fuckin boring? |
How’d you be so uninspiring? |
Your whole style is uninviting |
Go on keep on typing, we’ll see who’s smiling |
Spread fear can’t tell me shit |
Yeah, get it lit cos I’m a fucking vibes-man (yeah) |
Bars o’clock, but only when you think that we’ve started off |
I never knew hip-hop would take me this far |
When I get goin' it’s hard to stop |
And I never got along with lady luck |
So don’t be surprised if she pass you up |
I got 6 million ways to die in my head |
You got 300 mics in my larger top, now |
Turn it up, tickle that red till they’re burning up |
Boy ain’t scared like Bernie Mac, north London B-neck murderer |
On these steps might rock up the vertebrae, herbala |
Fetch an interpreter |
Why would you wanna life of servitude when you could just work on the Merkaba? |
For me, it’s all about the curvature |
They ain’t nothin but part of the furniture |
Every mark that I make stay permanent |
Come kneel at the church of the worshippers |
Make a meal out of anything I dirty up |
Work it out, don’t take it personal |
Especially when I bust the proverbial, it’s terminal |
But let’s just burn it all down |
Wow! |
Is it? |
Really? |
Now? |
Wow! |
Is it? |
Really? |
Now? |
Wow! |
Is it? |
Really? |
Now? |
Wow! |
Is it? |
Really? |
Now? |
Wow! |
Is it? |
Really? |
Now? |