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letra de speed bikes - nathan original

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[intro]
check, check, check
me and vince the wiz k!lling kids
everyday motherf-cker
this is how we live, we’re living that
me and my girl was in the parking lot
doing something, oh

[chorus]
me and my girl was in the parking lot
doing something over twenty for the parking spot
i tell her slow the f-ck down
i’m trying to spark the black
we got the windows rolled down like a heart attack
victim, on the ground, laying on his back
kicked him, quit playing ’round
where’s the fun in that?
symptoms of a clown that owe a hundred stacks
visit the family at the wake like “where’s my money at?”

[bridge]
i need that sh-t yesterday
ain’t got sh-t left to say
a motherf-cking few more things
that’s what’s to say

[verse 1]
me and my girl was in the parking lot
doing something over twenty for a parking spot
i tell her slow the f-ck down
you’re going to hurt somebody
as i flipped the double bird to word the paparazzi
give her a quick kiss, then we hit a jogger
stupid b-tch, i guess he never played frogger
now i’m looking for some grey joggers
just copped a black chino’s from dillard’s
actually, she got ’em for me ’cause she had a gift card
now she’s twerking on me, whilst i’m trying not to get hard
slapped some punks in the mouth for shopliffin’
if you can’t afford it, motherf-cker wait for christmas
but as of now you’re on my sh-t list
make sure forgiveness on your wishlist
p-ssy, and pray you never forget this

[bridge]
better pray you never forget this

[verse 2]
pray you never forget this
what you’re about to witness
leave you witless
thinking like london tipton, you’re a dipsh-t
but as for me i live a sweet life
wait ’till you catch me out in london, racing speed bikes

[mouth sounds solo]

[chorus]
me and my girl was in the parking lot
doing something over twenty for a parking spot
i tell her slow the f-ck down
i’m trying to spark the black
we got the windows rolled down like a heart attack
victim, on the ground, laying on his back
kicked him, quit playing ’round
where’s the fun in that?
symptoms of a clown that owe a hundred stacks
visit the family at the wake like “where’s my cake at?”

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