Lyrics Do It - Dead Players, Jam Baxter, Dabbla

Do It

Ain’t no shoulda, woulda, coulda when it comes to getting out of my mind
I just do it, do it, do it
Ain’t no shoulda, woulda, coulda when it comes to getting out of my mind
I just do it, do it, do it
(Verse One — Dabbla)
Bring that bounce by the fluid ounce
In the house drinking some shit, that I can’t pronounce
Big amounts in the system I’m feeling marvellous
You ain’t gonna fuck with my bubble, by starting arguments
What a cunt, that’s the analysis
Dabbla stay happy as Larry, whoever Larry is?!
Spinning a million different narratives
Whilst I’m showing you who the daddy is
Unanimous verdict, magnanimous
Polygraphic platters with traffic, I’m in your canisters
The highest ranking ambassadors, couldn’t understand
So they ran with a pack of jaguars
Such a hazardous world but it feels rare
Must remain courageous and all of them tings there
For now, back to the buzz whilst its still there
Just promise you’ll be sticking my dick in a wheelchair
(Verse 2 — Lee Scott)
The clocks melting, stop yelping it’s not helping
I figured life out with my head in the troth belching
I blame Franky’s tears on the lack of beers
And it’s too late to audition for the cast of Cheers
I go west when I blaze a J
I’m trying to spend the night on a wasted day
I’m flying through tables like Mick Foley, even the sub titles misquote me
And no we can’t drink slowly, a peasant with a king skin rollie
VIP A-Lister, holding up the bar like a weight lifter
I apologise like Anita Baker
I’m confused which handshake to use when I meet the maker
Just give it to me straight I don’t need the chaser
Say it now and I’m thinking of the meanings later
Ain’t no shoulda, woulda, coulda when it comes to getting out of my mind
I just do it, do it, do it
Ain’t no shoulda, woulda, coulda when it comes to getting out of my mind
I just do it, do it, do it
(Verse 3 — Jam Baxter)
I place an hourly wager on the suicide rates keeper
Long running list of things that you and I hate
Must you arrive late, send warmth for the living things
Plug when the waste falls and wild cards singing hymns
But with a certain inner stillness
I ain’t eating none of the less and welcomed all resulting illness
Inhale the fume without filters, every terraced yard like a tin of cold
pilchards
Each especially apathetic, shrivelled up and enveloped in anaesthetic
Gurgling my bath, allegedly I’m crooks
Grim maintained by cleverly hung hooks, it’s easy
I enter to all applause, two straws in a lake of obscure cures
Surfs up, pirouetting off the edge
Slurp a hole with a blood boiling in my chest
Ain’t no shoulda, woulda, coulda when it comes to getting out of my mind
I just do it, do it, do it
Ain’t no shoulda, woulda, coulda when it comes to getting out of my mind
I just do it, do it, do it
I don’t want this night to end or this life to pass me by
But we keep on drinking, keep on smoking, getting so high
I don’t remember many ways, I wake up tomorrow with no yesterday
But when we need to celebrate and I have yet to figure out a better way
I don’t want this night to end but my friend
If you ain’t got money to spend, go get a lend