| Well, some of you might be sayin’like they tryin’not
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| to like us But we want you to know we good
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| I am a gun
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| Okay frustration takes a fat cat
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| And slows 'em down like a bullet forced through layers
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| of disgusting Biggie Smalls fat
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| Still gets the job done
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| But only now it takes like ten gun claps to stab the fat of just one
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| The effort of a bullet through a hero sees kick armor
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| Doesn’t make him less a hero, more a metaphor for life
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| My effort works in full clips
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| Only hero’s a farmer
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| Cause he helps me fatten up and that’s my bullet into strife, you know?
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| I knew this guy, hell bent on getting over
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| I said help me paint this viz shit
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| Oh my god it’s fun!
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| But it wasn’t…I called him Huckleberry Fuckup
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| Cause he pulled that crap like every day and nothing ever got done
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| The frustrated, crumble under the way to their own
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| bungling hate of their own brain
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| Effort’s like a gunshot — a split second of manmade perfection
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| Dial up speed and direction
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| So.
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| Let me give a little cause to the flickering sun
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| Stop, drop, then gimme props, gimme gunshots
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| Gimme all that work, gimme age spots
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| Gimme all that hurt, gimme snapshots
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| Lemme get a photograph and laugh under your bad news
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| Kill the wet words, give me effort
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| Let me give a little cause to the bickering
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| Then stop stop the short short for flickering
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| Gimme work, gimme hurt, gimme effort
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| Kill the weak plots, gimme gimme gunshots
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| Kill the weak plots, gimme gimme gunshots
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| Kill the weak plots, gimme gimme gunshots
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| I won’t deny it, I’m a straight rider
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| You don’t wanna fuck with DoomTree
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| I’ve got ambitions of a rider
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| Like another famed victim of effort
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| Less effort though
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| Well… I guess he took it and smiled
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| Five shots couldn’t stop the knowledge dropper
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| Turned posh in his Tiff jar and clone donor
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| But fifteen could
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| Maybe it was fortunate
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| Give me the strength to pierce flesh
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| The highest caliber of focus that’ll give me death
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| The hammer pin, powder push
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| A simple try’ll do, I won’t lie to you
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| I’m simply trying to let that blood goosh
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| I’m simply trying to slip past medocrity’s lips
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| Just wanna kill that bitch from the inside, you know what I’m sayin
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| The thorny Doom branch on the side of every blank loaded
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| Armchair thinker, and backseat liver
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| You perish my people like Anne Rice
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| You parody passion
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| My bullet will will not think twice before before bashing (I won’t)
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| Thank God I put effort into everything (seriously)
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| Doom
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| So.
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| Let me give a little cause to the flickering sun
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| Stop, drop, then gimme props, gimme gunshots
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| Gimme all that work, gimme age spots
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| Gimme all that hurt, gimme snapshots
|
| Lemme get a photograph and laugh under your bad news
|
| Kill the wet words, give me effort
|
| Let me give a little cause to the bickering
|
| Then stop stop the short short for flickering
|
| Gimme work, gimme hurt, gimme effort
|
| Kill the weak plots, gimme gimme gunshots
|
| Kill the weak plots, gimme gimme gunshots
|
| Let me give a little cause to the flickering sun
|
| Stop, drop, then gimme props, gimme gunshots
|
| Gimme all that work, gimme age spots
|
| Gimme all that hurt, gimme snapshots
|
| Lemme get a photograph and laugh under your bad news
|
| Kill the wet words, give me effort
|
| Let me give a little cause to the bickering
|
| Then stop stop the short short for flickering
|
| Gimme work, gimme hurt, gimme effort
|
| Kill the weak plots, gimme gimme gunshots
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| Kill the weak plots, gimme gimme g-gimme g-gimme gimme
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| gimme gimme guns
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| Bang
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| Pow |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Gimme Gimme Gunshots , by - P.O.S. Song from the album Ipecac Neat, in the genre Иностранный рок