Greaseball - On My Brother's Birthday текст песни

Текст песни On My Brother's Birthday - Greaseball



I gotta practice more
I don't wanna rap no more that's a wrap
I'm tired of my back being sore from the back and forth
That's a fact and the Lord knows that
Let me fall back please, before I fuck around and hurt myself
And if God knew me, then he'd probably screen all my goddamn calls
I'll be at that gate with my hand on my balls
And a blade in my teeth
And my friends don't drink no more
At least they don't drink with me
Got the hole in the boat and the rocks and the ropes
But nobody wanna sink with me
When the day's all done, you can't make me love
Should've called my mom, should've stayed right home
When they called us creeps
Out of all my friends, you're the only ones
Who can cut so deep
But you can come right back
You can come right back to me
What do they know, huh
Well, there ain't no shame in a throwdown, love
When the rain dries up
We can all get together with straws and
Drink all the water that'd fell through the roof
Right down to the ground where my confidence lay
And I wanna just say
For a rag-tag bunch we ain't done too bad
For a drunk and a hustler, a lover and a kid from the special-ed class
And affiliates too Love them all really, I do
But the ones that you love can humiliate you
And your feelings
Stressing what Lily might do
As I stare at the ceiling like, really, my dude
This type of shit splits the Switsher in two
If commitment delivers us
We just might get it on through
Should've called my mom, should've stayed right home
When they called us creeps
Out of all my friends, you're the only ones
Who can cut so deep
But you can come right back
You can come right back to me
I heard God was in my room, wonder if my songs were playing
I heard Pac singing sweet songs for the children
Playing ping-pong with the villain
I'ma keep the beat long
We can sing-song for a minute,
Keep the heat on low let that bronze for a minute
If we don't got love, then we don't got shit no more
If we don't got drugs, well, we gonna find out quick what the fuck we came for
Scary like strangers, I felt Saturdays die in my fist
Blaming the anger, and I think I might have stayed too long
I might not be for me I never meant this harm
I've been too far gone
But you can come right back
You can come right back to me
You can come right back to me
Nast



Авторы: Joseph Palmerin


Greaseball - Sleep, Cowboy.
Альбом Sleep, Cowboy.
дата релиза
30-11-2020




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