Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Dot Ave, artist - Slaine.
Date of issue: 18.08.2014
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Dot Ave |
Sittin' in the bar, playing Keno on a Wednesday |
Pumpin' quarters in the jukebox, MJ |
Rockin' Billie Jean, Jilly nodding off, silly |
Sniffin' thirty millie beans, wet-brain Willy |
Flippin' out, what’s he really mean? |
I can’t hear him, he’s incoherent mmmmmm |
Between the swearing and the staring, Sharon a cokey-eyed spooky chick |
Kinda crackhead-ish |
Bitch got middle-aged hips and a black fetish |
Tapping a Newpie ash |
I caught a buzz with her, starin' at her groupie ass |
Doin' drugs with her, she spoke of a kindergartener |
Sipping whiskey, telling me that he’ll get into Harvard |
I been a part of it to benefit demented hardship |
The streets that I grew on ruined by the scent of garbage |
What am I doin' here? |
I can’t escape this place |
I’m trapped staring in the mirror, standing face-to-face |
I don’t really need the things I do not have |
Where I’m from, when they shoot at you, you shot back |
Everybody knows I rose and it’s not bad |
But now I’m back in a bar room on Dot Ave |
Oh! |
Here I am |
Back in the same place again |
Do you wanna know |
Where I been? |
Or where I’m gonna go? |
And when I find my way |
Tell me where to follow |
Dorchester, where they pack burners in the whore’s fest |
More or less, I store four fours up in my drawers |
Filled with pills, yayo, bullets, warm cans of Coors |
Yesterday’s wars, burnt bridges of festering thoughts |
In the honor of excellence |
Commit seven sins, I live next to hell where heaven ends |
I murder stories from purgatory and prisoners |
Dead cultures are twisted in this frigid religiousness |
Scriptures in the hood, wooden shovels to dig a ditch |
Figaro, they treat me like a negro who’s getting rich |
I take a swig 'n swish whiskey, I’m a bit intense |
So maybe I’ma product of this ignorance |
It sticks with me, my church is full of serpents |
I jerk the curtains closed, this time I’m certain |
The police is lurking, I’m out of work again |
My best friend just OD’d, I sold some percs to him |