AWA

Inside Out

Track byclipping.

111
2
  • 2014.06.04
  • 3:35
AWAで聴く

歌詞

Walah, pullin' rabbit food out of parker Carrots catch the light right, up the block from the farmer He got that lettuce, that cabbage, that broccoli Tryin' to catch a fire, locks like Marley That Chevy frame rattling like a Caribbean roof-top in the rain, and the window panes wiggle following suit And the black suites sell bean pies, and the cream suits shout soap box And the lime-green suites send angels to the streets with botox (Shh) Don't talk 'cause there's rollers in the corner (Whoop) Football on the blacktop, little C rush the quarter Five alligator, six alligator, seven alligator, car Game on, till the street lights came on, crowd out by the Save-On Paper bags 'round tall cans, talkin' that old mannishness like "Man, when I was twenty-two I woulda coulda used to be the shit" Or the high-waisted bikini model standee Two eleven in penny candy Storm comin', everybody inside It's a war comin', stack your bread, get high Gotta pour somethin', out for the homies Turn that beat up, get loaded It's a murder on the outside, everybody inside Murder on the outside, everybody inside Murder on the outside, everybody inside Inside out now, lock 'n load, let's ride Donald Duck, Sunny D, Tampico, Capri-Sun Orange couch, plastic wrap, What's Happening re-run Oak frame hologram Jesus portrait Brown shag carpet, broken screen door to the back porch Pipes in the toilet gurgle every six minutes like clockwork Grandfather clock not working Great grandmama's Crock Pot chocked full of stew meat "Who, me?" said a speech bubble on a dog on a Sunday morning comic Clipped and stuck up to the fridge with big chip bag magnet Big chips stacked in the armoire Behind glass, where the dominoes and the Bicycle cards are And the thick, yellow and crystal tumblers, one sits on the table With a single ice cube melting into a thimble full of Jack Daniels The telephone receiver hangs, swingin' by the cord And the front door is swingin', wide open, accordingly And that big block engine turnin' over in the Caprice That's peelin' out of the driveway, lettin' the tires screech Storm comin', everybody inside It's a war comin', stack your bread, get high Gotta pour somethin', out for the homies Turn that beat up, get loaded It's a murder on the outside, everybody inside Murder on the outside, everybody inside Murder on the outside, everybody inside Inside out now, lock 'n load, let's ride Orange cones and yellow tape Palm trees swayin', passers by all look the other way Nobody speak to police this or any other day They comb the streets, knock door to door asking for mother's sake, trying to catch another break Body on the pavement 'bout ten steps from the front porch Photographer snappin' pics to go with the coroners report Of the seven exit wounds, three in the skull four in the torso Blood spread dry, red black red snapback even more so Lays three paces to the south, the direction of the wind New deputy pissed, he picking up shell casings again Finds one in the browning grass by the sagging four foot high chain link fence Drops it in a bag marked "Evidence" Here come that Caprice again, rolling too slow up the street men sit four deep in They seats and slow up by the scene, bandanas hide they faces but all they heads are shakin' They nod in unison and hit the corner without brakin' Storm comin', everybody inside It's a war comin', stack your bread, get high Gotta pour somethin', out for the homies Turn that beat up, get loaded It's a murder on the outside, everybody inside Murder on the outside, everybody inside Murder on the outside, everybody inside Inside out now, lock 'n load, let's ride

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