paroles de chanson Gluto - Scoochie Boochie

Greatness has no recipe
Garcon was the bun to my sesame
Rest in peace, to the best chef that I've ever seen
Break bread in his oven loving memory
Gone not forgotten so I'm gnoshing
Til I'm gone in a reverie like ketamine
I just lost my dawg so tonight I'm eating everything
Shit even the bong is a French bread effigy
Man doesn't live by bread alone
But I bet I'm close
Put the dough in overdose
Til I end up toast
When I go, don't bother with the casket
Throw me in an old Fazoli's breadstick basket
Tragic
Garcon passed last year
Put the fear of god in Panera cashiers
Pure bread like a fancy dog
Just a bun in a bun no sausage no sauce
Flaky on the outside
Tender in the center
I haven't been outside
I've been on a bender
Couldn't tell you what the day is
Keep a holy wafer elevated on a dais
Bitch I put the pita on a pedestal
Eating homemade feeling like I made it
So much French bread
Got an accent
I've been in my bag
And by that I mean a baguette
Roll some flat bread
Snort a fat line
Of some white bread
With my last breath
Before I flatline
Boromir canoe for my dead ass
Make 'em make the boat out of Lembas
Used to just be out with friends
Now I need a crouton to get out of bed
Sometimes pay for it out the end
So I never leave the house without Depends
Throw me interventions
I don't pay attention
I don't have a problem
I just have a penchant
Friends and family plead with me ease back
I don't heed that feedback
In one ear out the other and I relapse
In one year out the other at the rehab
If I mumble or I'm muffled it's the feedbag
Big ball of raw dough looking like my kneecaps
I been getting to this bread like a fat duck
Tell myself I'm only gonna have one
Just to take the edge off, y'know have fun
Wake up in a pile of crusts and crumbs
Lost in time and space
When she caught my eye
From across the wake
We talked a while
Walked to her place
Made a move but my bowels did too: wait–