Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song RGB, artist - Dels. Date of issue: 02.11.2014
Song language: English
RGB |
| Standing on the stairwell to hell |
| But don’t cross me though |
| I’m mega superstitious, one-nut-job-to-go |
| Serve me with a cold beer, turn up your speaker |
| It’s time we got acquainted |
| Wagwan? |
| nice to meet ya! |
| Post-Internet, Wi-Fi-Fo-Fum |
| And I’ll never «go Pop», I’d rather die, Ho-Hum! |
| Bold type cloud the lungs |
| To all those on keyboards all bumping gums… |
| You can all suck me plumbs! |
| Scrapping until death becomes, for life’s crumbs |
| I’m not one of those lost ones, who push lungs for lump sums |
| To my Youth with dum dums |
| This is for Section.80 |
| Here’s my cake, who want’s some? |
| Love, you’ve got to shout louder |
| Crank up the hearing aid, dialogues the power |
| I shower my thoughts to empower |
| Extra-terrestrial, like a flower |
| Growing on the surface of Mars |
| This is my hour |
| Running out time like Bauer |
| Oh life’s sour! |
| Been bunning Babylon since '95 |
| Getting hype on the mic, yeah we’re streaming live |
| Drip, drip |
| Dripping all these colours of my mind |
| Let the colours just drip, drip |
| Dripping all these colours of my mind |
| Let the colours just drip, I let them drip |
| Dripping all these colours of my mind |
| Let the colours just drip, drip |
| She’s uploading pics of her arse since the CIA’s tapping us |
| In a lack-lustre fashion, lacking trust and thus we must |
| Kick up some dust and don’t sleep in the belly of the beast |
| I’m trying to eat more than spag bol for tea |
| And get left in graveyard for ‘Have-Been' MC’s |
| Where they form cover bands and perform classic LP’s |
| Much to the despair of the audience… |
| As So Solid’s Harvey sings along to ‘Accordion' |
| Step into proverbial Delorean |
| There’s no ignoring him, he’s got a sword with him |
| He’s war ridden |
| Just exposing a few fears, downing a few beers |
| Having a chin-wag wit the page my love / dears |
| Let’s have a toast the young years |
| And Lord-Willing they’ll roll over, like a boulder |
| Chasing me through life’s labyrinth, not sober |
| I’m in a food coma |
| Dreaming I’m sailing to Barcelona on a ring donut |
| With a cold Corona |
| That’s unsound fallacy but makes sense in the fabrication of my mind’s tapestry |
| Been bunnin' Babylon since '95 |
| Getting hype on the mic, yeah we’re streaming live |
| Drip |
| Dripping all these colours of my mind |
| Let the colours just drip, drip |
| Dripping all these colours of my mind |
| Let the colours just drip, drip |
| Dripping all these colours of my mind |
| Let the colours just drip, drip |
| Dripping all these colours of my mind |
| Let the colours just drip |