| Yeah, big up Donald Trump
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| Cows in the slaughterhouse, yeah, covered in stuff
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| Missed our grandfathers, grans
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| Toothless idiots
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| Doris, suck your relatives
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| Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Wanker, in a pie
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| Still
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| Puffing the purple 'til I’m drowsy and mute still
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| Stuck in the circle yet I’m out of the loop
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| Spouting abuse, drownin' in the fountain of youth
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| As powder and puke surround me when I’m out with the troops
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| So how do you do? |
| 'Low me a twos
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| I’m on the wrong track
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| Pulling short straws from a sorcerer’s top hat
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| Calling from stopgap to boredom to stopgap
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| Like I’m blowing my nose and snorting the snot back
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| Circulating the earth, regurgitating the worms
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| The birds are making me worse, I’m hating their chirps
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| But loving the peace
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| Hating the work, but loving the peace
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| Maybe it’s worth becoming a freak
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| Stuck on repeat
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| Stains on my shirt, mud on my sheets
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| See me spraying this verse with blood on my teeth
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| As my cranium burst and smothers the street
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| I keep faith in the world and my tongue in my cheek
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| It’s deep
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| It’s CP, SMB, and you are not invited
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| Best leave me the next CD
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| We’ll leave you rotting lifeless
|
| It’s CP, SMB, and you are not invited
|
| Best believe me, the next CD
|
| Will leave you rotting lifeless
|
| Look
|
| Here’s a list of the things I could never quite say
|
| When the deadly primates on the heavy night days
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| Man I’m sweating nitrates, and forgetting my name
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| And so I, shove another fucking gret in my face
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| Can I get a light? |
| Safe
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| I’m a keep spitting 'til the end of my days
|
| 'Til I’m dead and white, wait
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| Alright babes? |
| It’s getting quite late
|
| Tryna link chicks cheaper than the better by range
|
| Best respect a nice date
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| Man I’m known to be, sitting lean in my home with some potent leaves
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| I’m so sick that the devil sold his soul to me
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| You know my steez so please folks smoke my beef
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| I’ve got a scene full of jokers and hopeless freaks
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| I’ve got a team full of blokes with a show to teeth
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| Got CDs to promote and a nose to keep clean
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| Unless it’s hoes, Gs of coke for free
|
| It’s CP, SMB, and you are not invited
|
| Best leave me the next CD
|
| We’ll leave you rotting lifeless
|
| It’s CP, SMB, and you are not invited
|
| Best believe me, the next CD
|
| Will leave you rotting lifeless
|
| I walk unafraid of the torture I face
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| You can talk all day and I’ll ignore what you say
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| I adore what you make mate, of course get it made
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| But I’m bored of the same set of thoughts you’ve displayed
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| It’s awkward, I make beats and talk like I’m great
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| Get applauded, the rave’s never short of a mate
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| And yet I’m snoring, yawning
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| Conformist is caught in a storm
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| Thinking law isn’t yours to be born with
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| His storm’s in a teacup
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| And war when we speak up
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| Beat up the doorman and brawl 'til the police come
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| It’s portion to meet son
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| Drawing with each gun
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| And I ain’t sure if I’ll store what they teach us
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| Until police comes I’ll chew on that forbidden fruit
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| Pick and choose from this picture that I wish I drew
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| It isn’t win or lose
|
| I think it’s live and prove
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| You ain’t the sickest just because you’re in the biggest shoes
|
| It’s CP, SMB, and you are not invited
|
| Best leave me the next CD
|
| We’ll leave you rotting lifeless
|
| It’s CP, SMB, and you are not invited
|
| Best believe me, the next CD
|
| Will leave you rotting lifeless |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Teeth , by - Dirty Dike. Song from the album The Sloshpot, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп