Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Dos Factotum, artist - Louis Logic. Album song Sin-a-Matic, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 13.07.1999
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Pot To Piss In
Song language: English
Dos Factotum |
… Fresh from a court runnin from a bar tab |
Drivin drunk with car lag in need of a barf bag |
I left my smart half on the hard path to recovery |
With hangover hovering I took a bath in the bubbly |
I woke up in the trash, cold clutchin a flask |
With a wino askin for some from me, but there’s no stuff in my stash |
I’m so stuck in a glass but insist on throwin Rollin Rocks |
Shades drawn, doors closed and locked, hopin no one knocks |
I’m in a lonely spot |
Nowhere, and I want some some Stoli shots |
Like I don’t care if my AA sponsor knows or not |
I’ll spend a week soaked in scotch on Venice Beach with the vagrants |
Then I’m… leavin for Vegas |
But I’m penny free, and owe a lot of dough |
To spot my landlord and old lady liks |
It’s like I said, she likes to collect, she don’t babysit |
«When I get bent, I must represent, no question» |
I’m the lush president of the wino section |
Since you find no lessons in this lonely life, it’s like… «Shorty let me |
Tell you 'bout my only vice» |
«When I get bent, I must represent, no question» |
I been at war with lady liks and can’t find no weapons |
Or find protection on my coldest nights, it’s like… «Shorty let me tell |
You 'bout my only vice» |
So basically, my drinkin schedule’s 8 to 3 |
But wait and see I bet you I can make the rate increase |
Until I start sprayin my vomit on my Old Navy fleece |
So sayeth the logic, so say the sheep |
My next commandment, to drink a case a piece at least |
To set the standard, a buncha drunks that’s dead from cancer |
Leave your 12 steps abandoned on the way to the bar |
A convoy that’s on joy juice racin their cars |
Drinkin grain from a jar, that’s moonshine to the laymen in bars |
And soon I’m hearin angels with harps |
Perhaps it’s beepin horns and I’m crossin lanes in my car |
And sleepin on the job but made it so far, I’m thinkin ain’t this bizarre |
It’s kinda freezin', tryna find the reason |
When I realized my gates were ajar |
I took the Nestea plunge straight to the tar, but never jumped |
Then I awoke in a pool of my puke where I had left my lunch |
«When I get bent, I must represent, no question» |
I’m the lush president of the wino section |
Since you find no lessons in this lonely life, it’s like… «Shorty let me |
Tell you 'bout my only vice» |
«When I get bent, I must represent, no question» |
I been at war with lady liks and can’t find no weapons |
Or find protection on my coldest nights, it’s like… «Shorty let me tell |
You 'bout my only vice» |
I was born of beer kegs in college dorms and molotov mixtures |
Fists up, breakin bottles off niggas |
Make escape doin the hundred yard dash, comin from a car crash |
That’s what I call a runnin bar tab, back to the lab |
When an undercover car passed after my ass |
Dropped to my knees and my hands in the grass |
A straight shot to the trees beside my door, but I’d forgotten my keys |
Plus I had too much brandy to last, so I hopped to my feet |
My hands were both clasped stoppin the stream |
If I puked the cop would probably see |
But he was watchin me flee on wobbily feet, at least that’s what I’m thinkin |
That’s when he tackled me stagnant and stinkin |
I said, «No way occifer, I haven’t been drinkin» |
Then he said, «You're under arrest kid, and we’re goin back to the precinct» |
«When I get bent, I must represent, no question» |
I’m the lush president of the wino section |
Since you find no lessons in this lonely life, it’s like… «Shorty let me |
Tell you 'bout my only vice» |
«When I get bent, I must represent, no question» |
I been at war with lady liks and can’t find no weapons |
Or find protection in this lonely life, it’s like… «Shorty let me tell you |
'bout my only vice» |