Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song There He is , by - Dabbla. Release date: 14.01.2018
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
There He is |
| Yeah |
| 3am I pour Henny |
| Lucky if I’m in bed for 4:20 |
| It’s that feeling of not knowing |
| What’s keeping me going |
| Pinging around in the living room |
| Spilling your penny |
| My wives have got their knots tied |
| In a room full of balloon animals |
| Filled with nitrous oxide |
| That and lots of fucking fire dashed in the spotlights |
| The reason I’m not surprised they’re all boss-eyed and they’re lopsided |
| First place in the exaggerateathon |
| Half a dozen days later screaming «where the paper gone?» |
| (Where the paper gone?) |
| Took the pills without the label on |
| What a waste, kill it |
| Get the KC and the chaser on |
| Smear your brains inside these waves I’m cooking |
| Shit’ll have your eyeballs wondering which fucking way they’re looking |
| Put him in a cold metallic can and shook him |
| Nowadays you’re lucky if I take a booking |
| There he goes |
| All up in your bitch’s cleavage like a speedy boat |
| The bass hits and the thesis is a need to know |
| He’s on top of the world screaming «Bellissimo» |
| Standing in the field but the festival finished weeks ago |
| Still determined to get my shower on |
| Can’t think of nothing better to earn £1000 an hour from |
| It’s Dabbla in the motherfucking house without the power on |
| Boy |
| I’ll give you something to fucking talk about |
| What are you, some sort of behavioural expert? |
| Mistaking me for all my favourite excerpts (There he is) |
| There he is (There he is) |
| I’m not complaining |
| As long as my brain, my lungs, my dick, arms and my legs work |
| What are you, some kind of moody professional? |
| (You what?) |
| Chewing some shit that’s mildly digestible (What is that?) |
| I’m not complaining or straining, moaning or whining or whinging |
| My foot is finally in, you’re highly susceptible |
| With the lights off and his feet up |
| Getting right off of his peanut |
| Could’ve sworn his whole life’s been a write-off getting lean up |
| At least all of my rhymes drop when the beat’s cut |
| And at least I’m not |
| Rambling to Jesus |
| From the magnificent league of champion achievers |
| How my people bring this shit to your borders |
| Stamping your visas |
| Speaking Vietnamese better than these Vietmanese geezers now |
| Now |
| Now he’s deep in it and feverish |
| Plus all of my peoples is mad geezerish |
| Could’ve had the same but your family lacked leadership |
| Each three minute track’s a piece of my genius |
| (What else?) |
| Plus my penis is prehensile and tedious |
| And happy to deal with all the immediates |
| I rap about the shit that I feel |
| It’s real but it’s meaningless still (still) |
| Disagreeing and disobedient (Nah I’m not) |
| What are you, some sort of behavioural expert? |
| Mistaking me for all my favourite excerpts (There he is) |
| There he is (There he is) |
| I’m not complaining |
| As long as my brain, my lungs, my dick, arms and my legs work |
| What are you, some kind of moody professional? |
| (You sure?) |
| Chewing some shit that’s mildly digestible (What is that?) |
| I’m not complaining or straining, moaning or whining or whinging |
| My foot is finally in, you’re highly susceptible |