Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Antelope, artist - Dirty Heads. Album song Any Port in a Storm, in the genre СкаDate of issue: 02.09.2012
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Five Seven
Song language: English
Antelope |
| Well don’t forget about the down and dirty southern cali flow just open the |
| melody and let the rhythm go I’m hoofing up the track just like a bouncing |
| antelope and soften up your skull just like a ripened cantaloupe because the |
| west |
| West |
| Coast |
| Coast |
| Knows how to kill it and yo and yall |
| Yall |
| Know |
| Know |
| When its time to feel it yo we make it right, |
| Make it right |
| So we up all night, |
| Up all night, |
| Until its tight, |
| Until its tight, |
| Until its tight, |
| Until its tight, |
| A bohemian rhapsody, these syllables after me, with lyrical chastity, |
| And verbally blasphemy, the illest we have to be, with musical masterpiece, |
| So come on and clap with me, so come on and clap with me, |
| So come on and clap with me, |
| Just come on and clap with me, |
| So come on and clap with me, |
| Yo just come on and clap with me. |
| Once upon a time in the neighborhood, there was a little dirty boy that was up |
| to no good, he had a chip in his tooth and a mic in his hand, he had a dirty |
| ass head from the beach and the sand, he said, «I just got out of the water and |
| I’m late for school I asked duddy to skip and he said that’s cool.» |
| So we went to the liquor store got ourselves some magnum rolling down the |
| street yeah you know we brown bagged them, with the 50s on top and the 20s on |
| bottom said we rolling through my hood yeah you know we got em sucker mcs wanna |
| battle me but that’s okay I tell em don’t fuck around because we don’t play I |
| sang rock out with my cock out I got balls of steel hear me clanking down the |
| street like a bag of beer, said the dance off session gonna start right here, |
| duddy b grab the wheel cause I can’t steer, you got 20 inch rims and they |
| spinning when you stop, said I don’t give a fuck, kill it when the beat drops, |
| cause that’s what I respect to all you knuckle heads and derelicts just |
| jamming down the sound with the syllables and intellect, maybe not the |
| intellect but syllables are clean and I leave you in the desert with an empty |
| canteen while I’d be ripping shows from here to Galapagos and I’d be picking |
| foes like a pick in a the fro, and all you chicken head whores that come to |
| pick at my shows you got to go |