a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 #

letra de concrete pongal - dilipan.m.a

i am a big dreamer n i don’t even talk no more,
i don’t even call no more; i barely keep touch n all
old ducks live beacon for mom n all’.
and i don’t even recall the last time i dunked my hands in the turf
with the gangsters and all my thugs in my county!
feeln’ the sun linger my skin to suck off my salty liquid out.
i only pleat my hands to god for a while,
tick tick ticky’ time up,
i got something god d-mn waiting in the television’
as i sprint before my mom rub ash on my forehead!
i bite canes and sit watchin’ tv where that fekin beetch paint her hands all over the air;
amplifying her scar faced role in the most recent floppy bloop’

every place everywhere we go
man do we deep everywhere we roll?
just comin’ outta my house, call all my thugs,
pick em up, buy a pocket of milk,
sprint afore it festers, reach my fav playhouse
and sprinkle milk covers on my god d-mn idol, holdin weapons that cut our -ss
so chicks come get me, wonder boys what up though i see you
rock bottom, yea i see you, all my chennai people
go in to the playhouse; i shout, i scream, i yell, i feel, i throw crackers on the public’
to make them call me public enemy #1

i walk out boostin’ the most fekin movie i saw ever,
speak about that the whole night to bite more canes and eat more snacks,
grow my tummy, never care for mummy!
i been chasin’ the paper product and givin’ lames the pain
accusations of violence you know you done heard of that
they fekin call me public enemy #1
and my dosth the public enemy #2
i pick my dad’s call, ‘daddy! am heading home’
some one’s at my doorsteps! hard to reckon
god d-mn! who the h-ll is she;
she stays the door next to me,
hard to believe, maybe she is not temptin’enough…
she brings some sweets to take back some,
maybe she got a sour sweet, am already on heat’.
i taste some, i waste some,i paste some’
the last time i dunked my hands in the turf
i was a 12 year old, made to believe my pongal is a holy cr-p’
am already on the streets now,
i pick my dad’s call, ‘daddy! am heading home again’
(i reach home)
i fill my gastric with some juice; then i puke
holy cr-p!
that’s the end of my concrete pongal’

thanks to mad billy

- dilipan m a

letras aleatórias

MAIS ACESSADOS