| Yeah
|
| Suttin' deep in the gullet screamed «kill 'em, kill 'em»
|
| Guts feeling like a missile hit 'em
|
| I think we met you back in summer you were looking like a
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| I must’a triggered every inhibition
|
| Couldn’t swing a kitten in your brain nah
|
| Seems like every cells laying face down
|
| Carpeting the walls of the playground these bright big city lights spin your
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| face round
|
| I live my life to embarrassing excess
|
| You ain’t squatting in my thoughts or inhabiting my head
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| Swap your body at the cotch for a mannequin instead
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| Never thought a wooden replica could matter to me less
|
| God damn
|
| You people are ill
|
| Stop shrieking just chill
|
| If anybody needs me I’ll be making this look easy on a quarter tab of acid on
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| the beach in Brazil
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| I belled her up and sent her flying
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| Waking up like «who's bed am I in?»
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| I boot before the razor blades appear on her nails and i find my own company
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| electrifying
|
| Yeah
|
| You can chat about gash, grams, gold and respect you ain’t got nuttin' like that
|
| And you ain’t gonna see me in a hundred odd years I still tell you I’ma be
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| right back
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| Do a double take every time I walk by way be careful or your spine might snap
|
| 'Cause I don’t give a fuck about you
|
| And I don’t give a fuck about that
|
| I could pour Glenn’s in your grey goose and you wouldn’t flinch
|
| So why you fronting with the finer things?
|
| Looking bored for the entire rinse still tryna' get high lacking the required
|
| Call the lord a lord por favor
|
| Can I have a triple shot before I bore por favor
|
| Never try and tell the kid be more mature por favor
|
| Turn the bottom of this bottle to the sky pour and pour, shit
|
| Shit, is it late already? |
| I
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| I, I can’t hold the chainsaw steady, and
|
| The little pieces of your features flying off and the whiskey on the rocks got
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| my face all messy
|
| This bag of booze caught an Uber to my stomach lining
|
| And pulled up in that black stretched hummer smiling
|
| Just 5 minutes later I was strapped to a chair doing rings round the city white
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| knuckle riding
|
| Yeah
|
| You can chat about gash, grams, gold and respect you ain’t got nuttin' like that
|
| And you ain’t gonna see me in a hundred odd years I still tell you I’ma be
|
| right back
|
| Do a double take every time I walk by way be careful or your spine might snap
|
| 'Cause I don’t give a fuck about you
|
| And i don’t give a fuck about you |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Bout U, artist - Jam Baxter. Album song Touching Scenes, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп