The Bottom Dollars - Weapon

Man, the whole block smelled like electrical fire
There were ConEd trucks and a spindle of wire
Then the lights flickered off, all the kids got excited
Then a string quartet of police sirens
So I looked for my smokes & saw the pack on the ground
My last 27, she was bleeding out
So I lifted up a Spirit and pretended to like it
Simple little pistol, just a bullet we’re firing
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There was close to an eighth, a Pax vaporizer
A c’est les bon temps plastic novelty lighter
She said “I’m not armed officer, I can’t find my license
I swear on my god. I swear on your life, man.”
I can’t breathe
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I can’t, please
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I can’t breathe
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I can’t, please
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I can’t breathe
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I can’t, please
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I can’t breathe
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I can’t, please
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I can’t breathe
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I can't, please
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I can’t breathe
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Hold me like a weapon
I don’t think I can stand up
Hold me like a weapon
I don't think I can stand up
Hold me like a weapon
Baby, that goes without question
Hold me like a weapon
Baby, that goes without question

Written by:
Brian Cherchiglia

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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