Lyrics:
he's layin' in a ditch
Daily dug for himself
On his grave I had to piss
Scud missile never miss you
Hit you, scratch you off, we left Jim Star
motherfuckin' ribbon
Bitches got my name on em, and the nigga still livin'
Spend a condo in the club, one bottle won't do
Two bottles won't do, bottles for
to die
This is the end
Written by Jim Morrison, Ray Manzarek, Robby Krieger, John Densmore (The Doors)
music mediterranean
Come dive in this big blue
Bohemian balcony
Bliss been bent with absinthe
I stroll through my life
Like a Jim Henson Labyrinth
Walk
Both being sides
Taken by tides
Jay has a screenshot?
What a cheap shot
Maya you're just dumb
Though you made me numb
Ruined in September
That I'll
inhabitations at the door we can pop a blue bottle I got a couple blunts we can roll she got that glow I know you know I paint dem wall Michelangelo I make it
red and blue, they red and blue
Book me for a show I sell it out I need my payment now
Drank a bottle with my broski so I'm faded now
Its like 7 in
three times it's so lovely
I want blue face and brown bills when I count threw my hundreds
I just want all of the riches
By me a house with some bitches
that the love they shared was true
Far away the fiddler's bowing, the grass forever blue
It was in the dead of winter when her man first caught
talk with the boss
I pop a Jose bottle, you can kick your shoes off
Ever seen a fat boy in a big body
Know you wanna sit by me, all you do is think
he's layin' in a ditch
Daily dug for himself
On his grave I had to piss
Scud missile never miss you
Hit you, scratch you off, we left Jim Star
stuck in a bottle of Barbados Rum
A beach umbrella, some Coke and ice, grilled jerk chicken with peas and rice
Make a little more time for a lotta more
call me Gargamel
(Gargamel) blues in my jeans, gang, gang
No I’m not a Crip i gotta chill
Need a cooling kit to cool me off (Off)
This that Gram House
He was born to sing in harmony and sang of oceans blue
Of storms and whales and sailor's tales and Foundlands old and new
Of roving blades and busty
the bed with your head in the blues
Oh well a yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah baby mine
Oh well I dance all night with a bottle in my hand, oh baby
There's a bottle of wine in the kitchen
If you feel like hanging around
We can watch the rain on the windows
We can burn your blues to the ground
Do
The fabric be defying fate
The fabric be defying fate
How you grasp is is defined by grace
How you grasp is is defined by grace
He look like Credo in
were supposed to do
and I'm here to pretend my position in this blue
Goodnight Moon, I run for cover
Only if I crumble there's chance of survive
he passes by, they all invite him
He'll clap his hands and sing and dance and talk his baby talk.
With a hole in pants and his knees stick out, he's
I’m flooded with the gratitude exhaustion can allow
I’m surrounded by my friends
Flooding all of that fear out
With his bottle in my hand
His cigarette
of my shoes
They too timid to even make it a single minute
I was molded by the pain
Shit, I'm Bane, I was raised in it
You and me are not the same
I was
on in a parking garage
Ambushed by a bunch of thugs
Skull and ski mask baseball bats
Followed by a lunch of drugs
Threats against my wife and kids
Safe
can
Dive deeper than the deep blue sea
But I feel his grip's a-loosenin' with all the trouble that I'm in
I need you Brother Water, come and wash me
see me there
They see me south
Never on my own in my underground
DS gang we have sound
Always step ahead yeah
I’m on it now
Blue skies blue skies
Night
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