Lyrics:
looks Corsican but Greeker A little older wearing Michael Jordan sneakers But I follow the leader 1995 S Class, in the back seat is a dead man who's car I
you are boy here you are here you are boy here you are he tips Havanian tips Abyssinian here Alaskan here Corsican we tip to Russo
Ooh Girl don't lie I know that Corsican Rosé stays on your mind And oh What went wrong We used to turn up Serge Gainsbourg and sing along
Nicholas Brothers, Corsican Brothers... And Doctor Joyce Brothers! Brothers! Ringling Brothers - watch them break their back! The Warner Brothers, Harry,
adventures Then sing off her sequins With tears and with traumas A fistful of love With Raoul Kowalski He's only a slob of a Corsican junkie Hoods,
white like porcelain I'm With my bros we Corsican I’m in them 4s again Finna pour some gin Solo cup I’m rollin up Put something in the wind Born in sin
Now a broken bone apart Napoleon, the Corsican And holy men from sin - Things never end where they begin... Don't we, don't we wander far?
to a Corsican priest I guess for safe keeping Oh don't make that face at me You asked what I was reading Now there's this poem I admire It's called "Tactics
the stables with the horses and the corsicans Whisky levelled up by the ice, hairy knuckles collide as we toast Street gods, watch out for whatya' say, you're
When the Corsican arrived I should have know When I saw the money I should have known When the girl left? I should have gone But I stayed I can hear
and I'm done Ain't enough money here, I ratha be in the tropics Wit Corsicans where narcotics is the only topic Persian rocks and things the man that made
whistle, whistle Whistle like the kettle do Drinking Ketel One thirty olives on the rim Seen me on the coast So much you think that I'm a Corsican That's
the Corsican, Italian, or French Won't smoke ya top five, all of them is sex This the underground where everything is less But it means much more to the brethren
the orders in Shine like porcelain Dominate another country Just like a Corsican Napoleon To whom I'm referring Whether European, African Asian, Australian
I took my time Lying on the sand Hadn't felt a suntan on my legs Since the summer I fled the home land Heading for Corsican shores Dreaming
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