| Mota!
|
| Everyday, well its the same
|
| That bong thats on the table starts to call
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| My name
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| I take a hit and zone out again
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| Ill be paranoid and hungry by a quarter to ten
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| Watching reruns on my tv
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| Im laughing off my ass at threes company
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| I dont know if Im understood
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| Buy hearing jimmy buffett never sounded so good
|
| Your memorys gone and so is your life (your life)
|
| Mota boy
|
| But losing out just never felt so right
|
| Your enemys you and so is your life (your life)
|
| Mota boy
|
| But losing out might feel okay all night
|
| Mota!
|
| Im driving down to the barrio
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| Going 15 miles an hour cause Im already stoned
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| Give the guy a twenty and wait in the car
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| He tosses me a baggie then he runs real far
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| I take a hit but it smells like a clove
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| Oh fuck I got a baggie of oregano
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| This ritual is destroying me But I guess it could be worse
|
| It could be methedrine
|
| Your memorys gone and so is your life (your life)
|
| Mota boy
|
| But losing out just never felt so right
|
| Your enemys you and your couch is your life
|
| (your life)
|
| Mota boy
|
| But losing out might take
|
| Losing out might take you all night
|
| Mota!
|
| Losing out might feel okay all night
|
| Yeah losing out might feel okay all life |