paroles de chanson We Are Llamas - Three Loco , Three Loco feat. Diplo

We are farmers, bum ba dum bum bum bum bum
We are farmers, bum ba dum bum bum bum bum
Bum bum, bum bum, bum bum bum bum, bum bum bum bum
We are farmers, bum ba dum bum bum bum bum

Call the cops, call the cops
Got mad motherfucking marijuana crops
Got lime trees and lemon trees
Got twenty dirty bitches down on their knees
Water, water, H2O
No big screens, no HBO
Tomato, tomato, potato, potato
These hoes just won the fat boy lotto
Hef, please let me use your grotto, hefty bitches is my motto
If you get on top, hooker, I think you might break my throttle
I'll knock your head off, you softer than a bitch's skin
You stupid bitches cannot win, fuck your wifey in the face
And then I'll take your next of kin, Rin Tin Tin, I'll stick a dildo
In your fucking fish food, which dude's fish food
A rich dude's fish food, I got an iPad
IMac body and your mama sucks my dick when she's high on mollies, mollies

Dirt Nasty and shit
This is agriculture
I grab a vulture
Who left that soda on the table?
Grab a coaster (Do that shit)
Girls wanna cuddle
Yeah, they wanna snuggle
Aw, that's a cute teddy bear
Put it in your butthole
Ooh what you know 'bout me, Dirt Nasty, bitch, I'm a farmer
Come through with a ugly ass ho, call her two-headed llama
She wanna sleep on me, better bring some pajamas
I got a white boy Entourage, Johnny Drama

Ay, yo
Spandex, I pull up with a lamb text
Too strudel, toaster strudel, ballin' on you poodles
Two cougars, forty-plus, clutching Rugers
Black out the two-seater, MC Hammer, have you seen her
Forty karats in the gallon
It's apparent, your parents, got 'em runnin' like mascara
Tempers flaring, I pull up in the Ric Flair McClaren
Four bad bitches on probation, are you sharing?
Got 'em jealous, twenty inches on you fellas chop the tellers
Got 'em running over Jerome Bettis, Versace lettuce
No dieting, Gucci eyelids, I go to sleep, snobby pilots

I'm a farmer boy, goin' Scottie Pippen in Illinois
Teeth full of diamonds and corduroys, been a while since I was unemployed
I'm the real McCoy, not a Hatfield
My RV got rims on twelve wheels, I ride to the club on a school of seals
Turtles and beluga whales, escargot and a plate of snails
My farm grows broccoli and I get paid well
Only time will tell, bong like I just cracked the liberty bell
Gracin' on the cover of Mademoiselle, sicker than a sick guy with sickle cell
Andy Milonakis just went to jail
Drinking V8 in the V12 with three Ls smelling like Adele