Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Native Son Prequel, artist - Gramatik. Album song Epigram: Deluxe Edition, in the genre Лаундж
Date of issue: 13.12.2016
Record label: Lowtemp
Song language: English
Native Son Prequel |
See I don’t ever talk about the weather |
I wear a long coat made of chickadee feathers |
Well I squawk loud |
When I’m pushing through a rush hour crowd |
On the way to your house |
And it’s a low life, baby |
Aristocrats sippin' fine wine |
Ain’t my perception of a good time |
It’s what I’m having |
Where do I sign? |
I’ll go straight to hell laughing, come on |
Since I was fourteen |
Repped it hard like I was James Dean |
Giving chickadees some wet jeans |
When I rolled through I made it my scene |
She was a tall lady |
Six feet plus and making men crazy |
I hollered at her from my blue Mercedes |
Now she walk the streets for me daily |
See I don’t ever talk about the weather |
I wear a long coat made of chickadee feathers |
Well I squawk loud |
When I’m pushing through a rush hour crowd |
On the way to your house |
And it’s a low life, baby |
Aristocrats sippin' fine wine |
Ain’t my perception of a good time |
It’s what I’m having |
Where do I sign? |
I’ll go straight to hell laughing, come on |
I know it ain’t right |
Making money off her backside |
But you know she ain’t no cheap ride |
So Rockafellas call me late night (ah yeah) |
She was made for it |
So she might as well get laid for it |
And I might as well get paid for it |
'Cause in the end I’m gonna pay for it |
See I don’t ever talk about the weather |
I wear a long coat made of chickadee feathers |
Well I squawk loud |
When I’m pushing through a rush hour crowd |
On the way to your house |
And it’s a low life, baby |
Aristocrats sippin' fine wine |
Ain’t my perception of a good time |
It’s what I’m having |
Where do I sign? |
I’ll go straight to hell laughing, come on |
Where do I sign? |
I’ll go straight to hell laughing, come on |
Where do I sign? |
I’ll go straight to hell laughing, come on |
Straight to hell laughing, come on |
See I don’t ever talk about the weather |
I wear a long coat made of chickadee feathers |
Well I squawk loud |
When I’m pushing through a rush hour crowd |
On the way to your house |
And it’s a low life, baby |
Aristocrats sippin' fine wine |
Ain’t my perception of a good time |
It’s what I’m having |
Where do I sign? |
I’ll go straight to hell laughing, come on |