Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Unorthodox, artist - Wretch 32. Album song Black and White, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 18.08.2011
Song language: English
Unorthodox |
Yeah, I got a good heart |
I was born on beat, that’s a good start |
I had a feeling I pushed past |
And now I feel like I’m the reason I should last |
And I move like my shit don’t sink |
But I’m all in a trance, no hit, no assist |
This is all from the heart, intro, no script |
I’m just about writing it down |
So now I don’t sleep, man, I miss those nights |
I take planes like trains, I don’t miss no flights |
I’m the type of guy that will have no life |
Just so I can shine like this gold life |
And that sounds sad but I’m happy |
And the only plans to stay scatty |
Yeah, unorthodox |
I made the bar so I call the shots |
We don’t follow no crowd, they follow us |
Don’t follow no sound, it follows us |
Go sit in hell, look down that wishing well |
Unorthodox, we call our own shots |
Yeah, I got a good vibe |
I ain’t trying to be bait with my hook lines |
I had a feeling I could fly |
Before I hopped on a plane or a new sky |
Yeah, I’m a good guy |
And if you heard otherwise, it’s a true lie |
I’m hype I don’t do shy |
I bark up every tree and I do bite |
Syke I’m only playing |
We all got freedom of speech, I’m only saying |
I ain’t got time for beef, I’m on the way in |
So the 8th day of the weeks my own lay in |
And that sounds sad but I’m happy |
But the only plans to stay scatty |
Yeah, unorthodox |
I made the bar so I take the shots |
We don’t follow no crowd, they follow us |
Don’t follow no sound, it follows us |
Go sit in hell, look down that wishing well |
Unorthodox, we call our own shots |
No one can hold us down again |
No one will touch our crown again |
No one can hold us down again |
No one will touch our crown again |
We don’t follow no crowd, they follow us |
Don’t follow no sound, it follows us |
Go sit in hell, look down that wishing well |
Unorthodox, we call our own shots |
We don’t follow no crowd, they follow us |
Don’t follow no sound, it follows us |
Go sit in hell, look down that wishing well |
Unorthodox, we call our own shots |