Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Old No. 7, artist - Jehst. Album song The Dragon of an Ordinary Family, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 18.06.2011
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: YNR
Song language: English
Old No. 7 |
VERSE 1: |
Hey yo |
I illustrate the acetate |
Envisioning the animé |
Sipping on the Alizé |
Pissing in the alleyway |
Listen to my cabaret |
Monday wishing it was Saturday |
Latter-day Saint |
Make your dinner date salivate |
'Cause I’m sweeter than carrot cake |
Two thumbs up |
Like the Fonz does on Happy Days |
Drop a pineapple-shaped hand grenade |
The flavour’s all natural |
Like homemade lemonade |
Let me demonstrate |
How I’m popping off in your house |
Like a SodaStream |
Just so you notice me |
Prototype poetry |
Flowing-type vocally |
Overnight brainchild |
Growing in the ovary |
Spitting so chemical |
Mr Incredible |
The essence of creation |
Contained in my testicle |
So egotistical |
You don’t want to get technical |
I’ll turn you to a very sad spectacle |
Huh? |
You’re a tad skeptical? |
Don’t make me pull out the pen and pad sketch for you |
Draw the tarot card, blud |
It spells death for you |
Draw the curtains on your life |
It spells death for you |
CHORUS: |
I’m trying to draw that phone number sippin' on Old Number 7 |
So can I get a sign from the heavens? |
VERSE 2: |
I’m the communist plot |
Police want to stop me on a Stockwell tube |
With eight shots from a glock |
Rock solid crops for the chicken head flock |
Spitting red-hot |
Ripping out the dead rot |
Got the game in a state of deadlock |
And once you put the name to the face |
It’s bound to make your head nod |
And make your toes tap |
Fingers snap back |
Call and response |
Yeah, I’m bringing that back |
I’ve got a bin bag of baggage |
Sick in the cabbage |
Vicar in the parish that’ll split up your marriage |
Slicker than your average |
Sipping on the Kestrel |
Peppercorn crushing with the mortar and pestle |
There’s more to the war-torn vessel than the battle scars |
Or the camouflage that I wore on the special occasion |
It’s more vodka and kahlua |
And cream for the caucasian |
Peep the rate of inflation |
With skunk inhalation |
Biters catching two-face with gum inflammation |
Mask and a gun inclination |
Put I stay mellow |
Puff an L |
And get drunk in the basement |
Fist of a derelict |
Punching the pavement |
CHORUS |
VERSE 3: |
I stay charged off the caffeine |
Professional on tracks like world-class athlete |
Kids in the back seat |
Yelling «Are we there yet?!» |
You’re already there |
Bet you think like a sperm |
Still swimming for the egg |
Never too proud to beg |
I admit it like Q-Tip |
«Can I get permission to kick it?» |
If she says 'Yes' that’s fresh |
If she don’t, it don’t really matter |
Move onto the next! |
These kids will be quick to forget |
I’ll scratch up your cd |
Fucking with my tape cassette |
No burning |
Just dubbing |
Blow the whistle |
I’m just bugging |
You better quit mean-mugging |
Since the age of a baker’s dozen |
I’ve been up on the stage |
Hear the rage, cold-crushing the percussion |
And you don’t want to go home with concussion |
Jump in the firefox |
Try and think Russian |
Caught red handed but I admit nothing |