letra de party foul - arian and dashaman
i’m goin to a rager at an estate
they say it’s bound to be great
parents are out of the state
another way to escape
the adolescent routine
spendin lots a money on the best of the green
and the rest is a dream
parking lots infested with teens
lookin for a dealer to address all they needs
the best of the weed and an open mouth of pills
chillin inside the ghettos of los altos hills
out of thrills
so i guess we try to create em
the product of livin without a single ultimatum
video games we play them
ready for change and freedom
so we copy the language of the media ???
then we hit up a party
sippin bacardi
listen to marley
and hit on a hottie
and ??? to livin in an image of amenities
stickin my d-ck inside of women whisperin timidly
people try to mimic a gimmick with little dignity
the faces of suburbia are riveted with symmetry
but in half a second
were rap pathetic
and we wanna move on to something that is bad magnetic
and more synthetic, an antidotal anesthetic
it’s d-mn poetic
mothaf-cka where’s the medic
won’t regret it
mothaf-cka don’t forget it
so aesthetic
now we got a copasetic
(chorus)
(sampled from wendy rene – i wish i were that girl)
“will i have to spend my life wishing i were her…her..her”
x2
p-ss me the blunt man
p-ss me the purple bubbler
p-ss me anything to make my past a little fuzzier
my veins a little bloodier
my brain a little nuttier
so i can forget that i was rejected by columbia
but in the present this sh-t is incredible
i’m drinkin a rum and c0ke and i’m eatin an edible
that the host of the party made with some weed that was medical
that made me feel like i was meditating on a pedestal
and instead of full of worries my mind was a spring meadow
everyone thinks they are so m-th-f-cking ghetto
i’m cutting the strings that were -ssembled by ???
i’m sharp like a stilleto
and higher than falsetto
now the people at the party are starting to play beer pong
and 3 white girls are dancing to a weird song
and these white girls i needa steer clear from
cuz they might hurl out over on the green lawn
and everybody is drowned in a cloud of cannabis
and im drinkin a stella and thinkin that im a fan of this
i’ve already had 6 but imma sip another can of it
then drive home in the mornin
or get a ride from a mormon
(chorus)
wake up in the mornin feelin nothin like p-diddy
im trynna sober up but f-ck i got weed with me
and a pipe and lighter so i gotta finish it
but first i search the house for some of that pita chips and spinach dip
and then i get my keys out of my jeans and hit the track
dashamans shotgun and my polish homies in the back
i’ve already got one
gl-ss bowl for the ???
but i go to the corner store
for some wraps
so we roll a fat
j now hold it back
strained to a cul de sac
a place where we all relax
talk facts like almanacs
sometimes i wish that my soul was more intact
but dashaman played this beat so i went home and wrote a rap hey
(outro)
rich white kids doin rich white lines
rich white kids doin rich white lines
rich white kids doin rich white lines
rich white kids in these rich white times
x2
(chorus)
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