Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song TWOTHOUSANDAND5, artist - Lee Scott. Album song Nice Swan, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопDate of issue: 01.12.2016
Record label: Blah
Song language: English
TWOTHOUSANDAND5 |
| Coming straight out the fuckin dungeons of rap |
| Face down under the trap, should of stayed down |
| In a bit kidda, skip the hugs and thanks |
| Whole family scouse but I’ve got love for the Mancs |
| I’m just a scruffy Sunny Runny cat so |
| To a scouser I’m a wooly back though |
| I passed go too fast to catch the cash |
| Now I’m sitting on a mountain of ciggy stubbs, tapping ash |
| Corned beef hash Rushy tash pushing passed |
| Reminscing like; |
| «fuck the past!» |
| Just a bored kid kicking a can that grew into a man |
| That has trouble trying to stick to the plan |
| Cause I’m too busy chipping a gram and not giving a damn |
| And wondering how many pigs you can fit in a van |
| Don’t trust it if it isn’t a scam I walked out the house amped |
| And told the happy children to scram |
| Might be big in Japan, who knows? |
| Bitter like a blue nose |
| Cause I can’t buy new clothes with kudos |
| You can try though |
| Philosophical conscious rap for your mind, hoe! |
| Everybody wants a piece of the pie but |
| Their too content sippin' two percent, chillin' |
| Unwillin' to walk up to the window sill an' take a slice |
| Don’t do it, pay the price |
| Spent the whole week, next to no sleep |
| I went to splash some cold water on me face but now I’m getting cold feet |
| Regretful as I’m turning the tap |
| This is fuzzy telly, metal hanger aerial rap |
| Where nothing’s what it seems to be |
| I have yet to make sense of a single manic episode and I’m on season 3 |
| I’m not sure if I agree with me, have you no decency |
| Grimy when I don’t even mean to be |
| Tweedle Dumb choked Tweedle Dee to death |
| For a pack of cigarettes some gum and a change of scenery |
| This year was one big blur |
| I’m wonderin if this lump in me mouth has always bin there |
| Giro in me hand in the post office queue while ye kids stare |
| Owe me soul to the dole |
| The boiler broke months ago so I’m puffing dro in the cold |
| You can see your breath in the flat |
| I’m freezing, even though me skins burning from an eczema attack |
| You can only sigh |
| Having dealers off and getting high on me own supply (2005) |
| Everybody wants a piece of the pie but |
| Their too content sippin' two percent, chillin' |
| Unwillin' to walk up to the window sill an' take a slice |
| Don’t do it, pay the price |