Текст песни Party Mouth - Piché feat. Droid & Magic Tricks

Bitch I got party mouth, my head is pounding, I can′t breathe
Wake up feeling awful, need some coffee, nicotine
Y'all are products of these streets, I′m the product of these beats
My past has left me gasping, vomit when I taste the breeze
They think I'm in it for some Oakley's or ovaries
But I don′t need a bitch from overseas, that′s love for G's
I just wanna see the way that Oprah sees
I′ll take the money but making money's scrambled vs over-ease
(I like it) But it don′t matter how it ends up
Keep it up 'til kicking buckets coughing up a lung
I can′t be strung with this life I've been given
Everything was handed to me, all these frets and all these rhythms
I'm getting in tune with myself like I′m Chuck Berry
Sick of making blues ′cause my life was getting scary
Bitch you a Dunkin joe, I ain't no ordinary
Wanna be a star? I′m a planetarium open rarely
When I was younger I was always getting wired
Flareon with the fire stone, always getting tired
Down with the bad decisions, always sick and in a spiral
Waking up with that party mouth, my ADP was psycho

Ups and downs and psychs, on some Wolf Haley shit
And now my head is filled with all this crazy shit
Diagnosis: I'm addicted to the halitosis
Bad decisions, now I′m always getting wasted, shit
Ups and downs and psychs, on some Wolf Haley shit
And now my head is filled with all this crazy shit
Diagnosis: I'm addicted to the halitosis
Bad decisions, now I′m always getting wasted, yeah

Welcome to the party kid, down a drink and break some shit
Pass out in the backyard, tomorrow do it all again
Welcome to the party kid, down a drink and break some shit
Pass out in the backyard, tomorrow do it all again

My flow so handsome I could model for an adverb
You been rapping 'bout your money like it's in a purse
Piss me off, but I′m standing when I′m close to burst
You pissing sitting, on your Twitter when you got some words
Had a bitch out to get me ending up like Kurt
Told me addys, gave me oxy, turned the world to blurs
Only 19, doggy years, words were getting terse
Never eating, looking like a younger Gwen Stefani's shirt
You ain′t a rapper if the Old Rec hasn't heard it first
My predecessors passed away, so no more interns
I take the crew with me, no more feeling Whitney
City took the kid, but the kid is always from the burbs
Magic Tricks, but this real, so fuck it, call me Chris
The pussy like a haunted house, ′cause I don't plan on kids
You think your flow is slick, you bout wet as Garofalo′s clit
Got your bitch quickly, I dick her and ditch her, she's a 6
This the 207, but I ain't from the sticks
Raps is hotter than the pavement where you′d park a whip
But you ain′t got one, where's that money coming from your lips
Say you spitting sugar, more like Sweet n′ Low, you been a bitch

I've been so sad lately
Doing these drugs daily

I don′t wanna take steps back
But I just wanna take steps back
Addicted to that pistol crack
Tell me I'm okay

Ups and downs and psychs, on some Wolf Haley shit
And now my head is filled with all this crazy shit
Diagnosis: I′m addicted to the halitosis
Bad decisions, now I'm always getting wasted, shit
Ups and downs and psychs, on some Wolf Haley shit
And now my head is filled with all this crazy shit
Diagnosis: I'm addicted to the halitosis
Bad decisions, now I′m always getting wasted

Welcome to the party kid, down a drink and break some shit
Pass out in the backyard, tomorrow do it all again
Welcome to the party kid, down a drink and break some shit
Pass out in the backyard, tomorrow do it all again
Welcome to the party kid, down a drink and break some shit
Pass out in the backyard, tomorrow do it all again
Welcome to the party kid, down a drink and break some shit
Pass out in the backyard, tomorrow do it all again