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letra de double dutch - funkoars

[verse 1: sesta]
nowadays
everybody f-cking with ses
only reason cos he probly the best (well now i’m f-cking with ya)
he ain’t sh-t and he ain’t rich
the heathen in black that’s keen on a drink and you better give it to him
security saying “leave with your mess”
it’s funny the sh-t you do when you’re needing to p-ss (“p-ss off, alright?”)
i need to leave in a hurry
“i like the track you do about the ladies suck in they tummies”
rhymes ain’t sh-t, dig the chorus
now which oar is you? step in the pit for us
course i will (course ya will!)
with a grin (with a grin!)
but the questions, are looming in
feeling p-ss poor in the morning until the p-ss pouring again
come on, say it
feeling p-ss poor in the morning until the p-ss pouring again!

[verse 2: pressure]
i came in the door, musta been later than 4
that’s what you get when you’re mates with the oars
spent the day in remorse, nature taking its course
and what this world don’t gimme i’ma take it by force
and it’s fair to say
if i’d never made a cent from my record play
wouldn’t feel like every day’s a bender
always set em straight never set a fake agenda
not clever mate, f-cking with a heavyweight contender, suckers
ain’t no use in holding the grudges
be my hype man so i can say i roll with the punches
the only thing that comes free is what you’ve stolen from others
the air you breathe? ain’t nothing you can hold in your clutches
til i’m old and on crutches, i’ll still k!ll the mic
if hip hop’s dead then 2pac’s still alive
pressure still, who’s gona inherit the sk!ll?
you don’t get it now you never will
you never were

[verse 3: trials]
yeeeaaaah i’m tryna get enough bank to never break fifties
and have big things in front of me, like fake t-tties
but, yep, you guessed it
every single cent that i got spent it instead of investing, ha!
‘nuf said so, check
we measure success counting the fans that wanna suck sest
and budget? f-ck it
we never clean like flashing a fiend taking a drug test
smart s-x that i pedal on front brakes
like lance armstrong, but his nuts ain’t
and that’s below the belt
get it? i said “his nuts ain’t”, and that’s ‘below the belt’
check it i wanna travel the world, jet to the netherlands
run amok, meet some girls bag a double dutch, ha!
who else do it like this? i’d rap his -rs- off
imagine what i’d do with my d-ck

[verse 4: suffa]
you want a double dutch, well, i want to blow it up
you know what’s up, n0body sharing, we all going dutch
we the friends that wanna fill the dinner plates
eva mendes, wanna feel the dinner plates
a dinner date with suff, dumb as dogsh-t
about as much fun as a lift from matthew broderick
toxic, convention-type good looks
hoods put it down like hons p-ssing on the good book
too many cooks with 16s, not enough fans
so big schemes sound like big scams
big hands, know what that means – big slap!
big plans, know what that means – pig sack
(dig that)
wrapped and served by a girl with such a big rack you’d think that they stuffed her bra
but bring your big back, to give back, the kids backs-
staring at you from the side like “yo, you gona drink that??”

[verse 5: hons]
man i used to be a centrelink king
until i got caught, sh-t
now i’m p-wning my things
quit the moral talk man, it’s k!lling my binge
i only got one life to rip my liver to bits
the villainous kid from the south of the city
brought up right but hackam turned my mouth kinda gritty
i’m
hard to swallow like a gobstopper
sh-t i’m a rap star man i don’t need to be a c-ckblocker
the p-ssed idiot, still a gambling man
but i wouldn’t dump my cash in the sh-t syndicate
stone-cold sleaze hons
i just finished 25 shows and still got a clean johnson
i’m on par with t for a girl in every state
new goal to be like magic, minus the aids
pouring jager down my throat til i’m flat on my -rs-
at the bar, with the friends, screaming “sha na na”

[verse 6: vents]
i’m the fish in the proverbial pond
i never want to get along with the hammerheads
and i ain’t happy til i have effect
f-ck all in the cabinets
little bit of rice, cigarettes, and the mice keep having s-x
holes in the walls of my brain
sowing the seeds of discontent, but still praying for rain
playing forward again with my girl put out, said the pill make her fat-
so i pull out just in time, paranoid and restless
unemployed we praying for death by asbestos
life sucks then ya die, one more of these and it’s probly goodbye
but i’m enjoying the ride
and we saying goodnight
wired right to the whole bright sight-
see the big bright light, alright
it’s the rides that are tiring, both guns firing
f-cking you raw while i’m smiling
what up

- funkoars

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