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 this song is a drug deal (clipping remix) - foot village

[verse 1]
shotty under the seat, windows tinted and up
runners walk in the streets, numbers folded and stuffed
into the bicycle spokes with little men watching the corners
knocks are all walking the beat the living dead, don’t need your mourning
they need a fix, tell ’em this song is it
this is the hours of terror you walk from minutes of bliss
this is the sh-t you don’t tell noone you don’t want to see cry
cause (no one wants their friends to die)
this is a necessary transaction to keep your economy active
activation, demographics, keep all the (?) p-ssing
p-ssing the pistol man, they whistling shots
pick up the juice in the fizzle baby he ain’t getting caught
put the freebase away, cause the block got hot
(we make the day go pop pop pop)
yeah, we bring the yé, you’re cops on cop
bullets gon’ spray, the choppers gon’ chop

[verse 2]
nights with no stars in the city with more cars than spaces
outside clubs where inside suits talk tv sipping ace of spades
and you can call it (shangri-la)
as long as all your shades are dark enough you call it (shangri-la)
keep your veil on where you’re married to the streets it’s (shangri-la)
have you seen it (shangri-la)
and when you suck on whats in this it is the closest thing to god
take a walk to the smell of rotting life on the air on a trail of smoke
wrapped in a swisher sweet like dreams are made of these evoke
a black saturn with the top on ragged in the alley way off of seventh street
and the beat down low with a shift in park and the glow of the lamplight flickering
and a group of men with their clothes on ragged being nonchalant
with the ambiance is obviously dagger to the jugular
who want to f-ck with the waiting room for the voluntary incremental suicide
is a suicide with suicide with thirty eyes like “who am i”
but it look like “who are you”
and if you here you look too
like a knock with your life on ragtime bagtime bagpipe hit it, don’t stop get it

[verse 3]
everyday decapitation ordinary pain
in the bloodshot windows to the soul where pushers are ordained
and turn the dial to the right is the only way you gain
thirty years of turning trickster trees and blaming it on rain
(you know there’s nothing like the real thing!)
so you keep the c-ke dryest
(you know i’m talking ’bout ice queen)
this paint job the flyest
(talkin’ ’bout you and me baby!)
this some sh-t you should see baby
b-tch, this sh-t ain’t free yeah you should bring the money to me
you wanna hear cause you’re pipe on e
and you’re skin all itchin’ and instead they hitting
and they never miss and you miss your mom
and you missed your calling because you came up with cloudy p-ss
and your b-tch is what, b-tch is what?
hold up, who you calling a b-tch?
units is what we move and may god bless

[hook]
this song is a drug deal
this song will f-ck you up
this song will get suckers k!lled
this song don’t give a f-ck
this song is probably your phone
hold in a styrofoam cup
you should play this song if you want to get turnt up
(hey, y’all got two for five, two for five
them motherf-ckers got garbage down there, son
hopping over barbed wire fences
i had this one b-tch, she was so sprung, she used to hold my motherf-cking sack
ho!)

- foot village

letras aleatórias

MAIS ACESSADOS