| Ghost
|
| Ghost
|
| Ghost
|
| We are passengers
|
| We are drivers
|
| We are travelers
|
| We are survivors
|
| We are hunters
|
| We are judges
|
| Administer justice swift without grudges
|
| Don’t you know you’ve seen a ghost?
|
| 'Cause were supposed to be nobody
|
| No relief, undercover, canopies we go beneath
|
| Okeley-dokeley, shipping coca leaf overseas
|
| Isn’t supposed to be so easy
|
| So, we’re blowing the boat into pieces, Jesus
|
| A landslides just enough pebbles to ruffle feathers
|
| I stand by as the dust settles
|
| A gunmetal nettle in a meadow full of buttercups
|
| A shark fin cutting through a slew of rubber ducks
|
| Pull up in a grubby truck, covered in mud and muck
|
| The stuff is shut up in a wooden hut
|
| Motherfuck it up
|
| A sudden rush of blood, a warm buzz, a blush
|
| Rubbing a sore, bloody raw with a scrubbing brush
|
| Hush! |
| Even if we must stand here for hours
|
| A rush and a push
|
| And the land that we stand on is ours
|
| The Santa Blanca Gang’s a contraband extravaganza
|
| We deliver packets to the planet like a phantom Santa
|
| Stuffing our pockets with narcotics
|
| You can’t stop it, far from it
|
| The harder you try; |
| the larger is our profit
|
| Our wallets are swollen up from the hard product
|
| Bars solid, this is real crack music, harmonic
|
| We are passengers
|
| We are drivers
|
| We are travelers
|
| We are survivors
|
| We are hunters
|
| We are judges
|
| Administer justice swift without grudges
|
| Freezing or blazing, all seems to be the same up in here
|
| We’re all-terrain warriors razing reigns in Bolivia
|
| Heartfelt alarm bells ring heavier than bar bells
|
| Money m-m-multiplying like a fertilized cell
|
| Cartel giving a hard sell to clientele
|
| No, «Voulez-vous de la cocaine
|
| S’il vous plait, madamoiselle?»
|
| This is life or death, we do not require a locked cell
|
| No one else is qualified, we’re dealing with it ourselves
|
| Dark realms, doubts, you can’t help the cards dealt
|
| But if you’ve a large mouth, you’re in the dog house
|
| I’ve witnessed horrors upon the likes of which I shan’t dwell
|
| But hang around and you might well find out
|
| The Wildlands is no climate for a mild man
|
| But my old man said I should climb up as high as I can
|
| You better be nice
|
| Every time when we’re behind enemy lines
|
| 'Cause otherwise it’ll be like the time when Kennedy died
|
| Sniping time, deadly as cyanide
|
| Your head in the firing line
|
| Violent, dynamite your mind
|
| You’re dead as a trilobite
|
| And by the by, I’m flying by to foil your vile plans
|
| So, try your hand, I am the Trial of the Wildlands
|
| We are passengers
|
| We are drivers
|
| We are travelers
|
| We are survivors
|
| We are hunters
|
| We are judges
|
| Administer justice swift without grudges
|
| We are passengers
|
| We are drivers
|
| We are travelers
|
| We are survivors
|
| We are hunters
|
| We are judges
|
| Administer justice swift without grudges
|
| Ghost
|
| Ghost
|
| Ghost
|
| Ghost |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Wildlands, artist - Dan Bull. Album song Generation Gaming XI, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп