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Foreign Beggars
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Goon Bags - Original Mix
Friday night, street's packed Headed out, no plans to reach back
Thoughts of a tongue tied, meet with yads Hold up to the sunrise, breach the flat
Call the man, I'm like 'Where you at?' Cross the tracks, we ain't afraid of that
We are spraying tags, we done drained the yat Got a bus cause a man found gates to crash
We green light, wave flag Out of the flash like we race drag
Blow thick smoke out a chain of fags Can be sipping on shots till I faint and gag
I'mma raid the bar when she serving them Pass out the bottle, can we merk the ten?
Heads swimming hard in a swirl of Gin Wake up in a daze that can work again
Goon bags, loose yads Run up in your flats with your goose flats
That new crack, just swagger Crewboard looking like lil' blaggers
Bellboy, no looks
Flipped on the fifth of those gold manors Name ain't written in no books
We ain't leaving till hoes bladdered
Wise living, loose world Lifestyle brimming with loose girls
Live women, choose swerve Mans all peeking on two thirds
Three Q's, one milli G dubs speaking like hillbillies
Still illy, fuck father Your bitch calling me godfather
Put it, in a Bag, zip it Shut it, get that Paper, moving
更多更詳盡歌詞 在 ※ Mojim.com 魔鏡歌詞網 (We bring goon bags, brother we gon' do blags Got that true swag, everything with new tags)
This be that, new shit Old dog flipping new tricks
Out here living like two hicks Chicks all skinny like toothpicks
Camera's on, it don't prove shit Crack it on and you'll choose dick
Dash it on and you'll move with Tag along and you'll get used quick
Tag along and get moved on Move along and get moved to
I ain't out here trying to make a friend So say your piece so I'mma school through
New school? Fuck a plan I'mma move on so fuck a fight
Man like us stay out of sight, out of mind Plus, I'm out tonight
Hangover, hurt like my head's crushed by a Land Rover
So I go for the boot till a man sober I'm in the zone, I sip petroleum, I hit the drone
Smoke spliffs alone, won't shift In a paranoid fit at home, lets stick the phone
They call in the blonde, fix my tone I might drift the void till my liver's blown
My kidneys shrunk and my heart's a mess Five parts the tar, five parts the stress
Surf the fine line, patrol the edge Scrape the foot of my sofa dreads
I hit rock bottom and give to death Chain smoking rest there's nothing left
Till I fuck my breath, turn tucks for death Six feet deep, laid to rest
(We bring goon bags, brother we gon' do blags Got that true swag, everything with new tags)
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