I just might be pitiful, but won't live unoriginal I will die with syllables penciled in this thin three punch hole paper Save it for later, read it back again, three months old But when the beat runs cold and I do what I'm told That's when I know that I've grown too old
Used to tell myself that I would never be there When I close my eyes, my thoughts keep telling me lies Go expose myself for the sake of repair Gundabad on my mind behind enemy lines
Give you nothing back, stay away from Gundabad Whеn you're low, broke, chain smoke Feel likе you can't come from under that Burns just like a cigarette, but it's far less intimate Those who use their innocence as a privilege, the thrill of it But you can find a better dope to fill in your pocket Get an outlet and cock it Make a craft and yeah, people will knock it
Used to tell myself that I would never be there When I close my eyes my thoughts keep telling me lies Go expose myself for the sake of repair Gundabad on my mind behind enemy lines
Gundabad Give you nothing back, stay away from Gundabad Low, broke, chain smoke You can't come from under that
Highs have got me down But I'll just stick around Sober in the morning Cuts from falling down (Oh)
Too high when you wanna put your feet down Too high when you wanna put your feet down Too high when you wanna put your feet down Drop, drop, drop, you can hear it from the seats now
Too high when you wanna put your feet down Too high when you wanna put your feet down Too high when you wanna put your feet down Drop, drop, drop, you can hear it from the seats now
Too high when you wanna put your feet down Too high when you wanna put your feet down Too high when you wanna put your feet down Drop, drop, drop, you can hear it from the seats now
Drop, drop, drop, drop (Let's go)Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
