Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Vitamins, artist - Jack JetsonDate of issue: 11.05.2014
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Vitamins |
| Ahhh |
| Like a prawn in the booth |
| Jack Jetson, BVA |
| Hairy like a fucking grizzly |
| Shoo, Shoo |
| Yeah |
| I’m fucking with the scene with the aim to infect it |
| Smile when I wrecked it, take my soul and collect it |
| They call me beaver, but not the wet bit |
| Been training in diss and that’s how I get respected |
| Accepted the future so enter |
| This is the sick shit that came after the birth like placenta |
| Draw you a raw lyrical diagram, me and Jack don’t compete on the track unless |
| it’s to see who’s higher than the other |
| Burn herb but dodge baby mothers |
| And if I did yours you can call me a motherfucker |
| Coz, it’s clear to see that I’m carefree |
| That look in my eyes is the drugs, it takes more than that to scare me |
| Gotta hustle, then hustle, that’s cool |
| Just don’t touch smack or crack and you’re following the rules |
| Cause music will teach people better than the many schools |
| Pay attention, put you on suspension if you’re a tool |
| We’re raw and lack discipline |
| Spit vitamins for people that ain’t fitting in with other citizens |
| We’re bringing through something different |
| To ignore would be ignorant, we play our minds like an instrument |
| Raw and lack discipline |
| Spit vitamins for people that ain’t fitting in with other citizens |
| We’re bringing through something different |
| To ignore would be ignorant, we play our minds like an instrument |
| Plants and politics, dismantling banks and colleges |
| Bomb your business buildings, rags we blam the offices |
| Blag the officers, defy the laws of nature |
| So many thoughts inside my mind it’s like a torture chamber |
| Cause the hater to evaporate like water vapour |
| The artful dodge, I’d pick the pocket of a fortune saver |
| Another awful caper, another shiny shoe, designer suit, item lootin' guy can |
| sit inside the boot |
| Forbidden type of fruit feasting on divine flesh |
| My guess, there ain’t too many pieces of my mind left |
| I drive west, across the lanes of my intoxicated brain |
| Severed veins never mopping up the stains |
| Might’ve got a bit of change fam, but nothing’s gonna change |
| I’m off my rocker, I’m deranged |
| Locking coppers up in chains |
| Opposites are made, proper rearranged |
| Like abstract paintings, waiting, lost up in a maze |