Ghostown - Bre Ton Dub

I circle the huddle and tackle debate
The bass that wobble, the shack that I shake
The case I take and gamble a stake
The worst that can happen I step on a rake
Went out of the door to juggle an oar
Fell into the water and struggle ashore
This is my ship so welcome aboard
Come to the bar and guzzle some more
Typical sympathy what you goan' give to me
Keeping me company working abundantly
People affronting me, what you gone done to me
Have to be blunt to be blunt to be blunt to be
Bashing my brains, deliver the pain
Mashing membranes, deliver the gain
Flashing the frames, playing the game
Burning in flames, claiming the claim
Certainly getting me hot and it's getting me
Suitably fittingly, maybe off written me
Flatter me, smitten me, fleetingly bitterly
Hickory dickory, hickory dickory
Came to point my pen at your brain
And make you move a little bit strange
Came to point my pen at your brain
And make you move a little bit strange
Typical sympathy what you goan' give to me
Keeping me company working abundantly
People affronting me, what you gone done to me
Have to be blunt to be blunt to be blunt to be
Certainly getting me hot and it's getting me
Suitably fittingly, maybe off written me
Flatter me, smitten me, fleetingly bitterly
Hickory dickory, hickory dickory
And twisting the knife
I'm sick of the strife
I'm sick of the house
I'm sick of the wife
I'm sick of the dog
I'm sick of the mob
I'm sick of the punch in punch out job
Sick of the day
Sick of the night
Sick of being wrong
When I want to get it right
Lined up the bait, now I gotta get a bite
Sick of the dark can I get a little light
The way that I come through with a one two
Like some do with a kung fu
When I'm confused
With a bit of booze in the cerveau
It occurred though
Officer go like a turbo
My verbal hurdles infernal
Internal yearnings are burning
The steepest curve that I'm learning
I keep my head above vermin
I'm staying sober for SEGA
I speak in codes and in layers
I walk on roads they survey us
Every way leads to chaos
I got the ball and I'm rolling
I will give you consoling
I know my temperaments golden
All the best lines are stolen
Moving faster and pacing
Absorbing too much information
Secret handshakes and Masons
Ancient Roman incantations
And twisting the knife
I'm sick of the strife
I'm sick of the house
I'm sick of the wife
I'm sick of the dog
I'm sick of the mob
I'm sick of the punch in punch out job
Sick of the day
Sick of the night
Sick of being wrong
When I want to get it right
Lined up the bait, now I gotta get a bite
Sick of the dark can I get a little light
The way that I come through with a one two
Like some do with a kung fu
When I'm confused
With a bit of booze in the cerveau
It occurred though
Officer go like a turbo

Written by:
RAEL POWELL

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

Lyrics powered by Lyric Find