paroles de chanson This Is for Life - Hilltop Hoods , Pegz
Damn
I'mma
be
old
and
dirty,
fat
and
bold
by
thirty
And
by
70
definitely
cold
and
scurvy
Sinking
my
gums
into
life
or
anything
as
it
comes
I
think
I've
succumbed,
got
the
drinker
thinking
I'm
young
You
take
a
father
of
four
to
make
a
pass
at
your
daughter
Tried
to
rap,
spat
my
dentures
in
a
glass
of
water
It's
gonna
be
sad,
holding
into
wanna
be
fads
But
I
ain't
full
of
shit
(nope)
- that's
my
colostomy
bag
Rocking
shows
at
retirement
homes
This
trendy
geezer
don't
know
when
to
quit,
like
a
smoker
with
emphysema
(I've
had
amnesia)
forgetting
tracks
with
my
thoughts
relaying
(It
ain't
a
seizure)
I'm
probably
bopping
in
my
walking
frame
Down
to
be
the
last
standing,
ain't
no
bounderies
Aiyyo
Pegz,
it's
your
shout
for
a
round
of
tea
I'll
have
em'
breathing
at
the
bar,
the
static
gripped
to
my
mic
In
chrome-rimmed
wheel
chairs
singing
"This
is
for
life!"
[Hook:
Pegz
+ Hoods]
{X2}
This
is
a
long
term
membership
Dedicated
to
the
penmanship
Popping
wheel
chairs
off
the
curb
As
the
world
turns
at
33
and
a
third
Yeah
until
I
got
false
teeth,
til
my
beard
is
grey
With
a
fat
chain
and
gold
plated
hearing
aid
Kids
on
the
streets
think
I'm
weird
and
strange
At
the
bowles
club
old
ladies
cheer
my
name
This
is
for
life,
making
beats
for
my
grand
kids
Still
using
mpc's
and
sampling
Diggin'
in
the
stake
for
Aretha
Franklin
With
a
Honda
jet
pack
and
keys
to
my
mansion
Keep
the
passion,
dropping
the
promo
Fans
in
the
front
row,
poppin'
the
'no-doze'
Suffa's
got
a
comb-over
rocking
a
Volvo
And
still
getting
love
like
a
pocket
of
mojo
Oh
no,
rocking
at
the
RSL
Debris
on
the
deck
spitting
hard
as
hell
My
man
Pressure
at
the
bar
nearly
passing
out
With
a
security
guard
try'na
calm
him
down
This
is
for
life,
brothers
need
to
heed
the
lessons
Pegz
and
Hilltops
bring
the
preconceptions
"Rippin
the
microphone
'til
I'm
motherfuckin
sixty"
--]
KRS
Until
I'm
on
a
pension
with
dentures,
I'm
still
gonna
flip
tracks
Til'
I'm
poppin
viagra
like
they're
Tic-Tacs
Until
my
teeth
are
in
a
glass
on
the
window
pane
It's
Suffa
MC
- the
host
of
your
Bingo
game
88'
that's
two
fat
ladies
from
88
til'
I'm
88
Can't
fade
the
greats,
we'll
still
be
hard
rhymers
With
debris
on
the
decks
try'na
scratch
with
arthritis
We'll
be
old
timers,
cold
rhymers
with
alsymers
We'll
be
bald,
blind
as
50
year
old
coal
miners
With
a
suit
on,
filling
prescriptions
with
a
coupon
Tellin'
kids
I
used
to
hike
with
no
shoes
on
For
3 hours
through
the
rain
and
snow
Just
to
make
it
to
the
club
so
we
could
claim
the
show
Til'
they
drained
the
flow
from
my
piece
with
a
catheter
I
rap
with
a
spectacular,
home-grown
vernacular
"Rippin
the
microphone
'til
I'm
motherfuckin
sixty"
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