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Search results for 'dead dog memories by the bottle rockets' Page #7
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dog shaven head bottle-boy freaks In Martens and khaki, drunk on sake You stare at yourself in the cruel flush of dawn Terrified, sunken eyed,
You're not promised tomorrow Yo, yo I'm bottle rocket conflicted, all dirty with flame on wic nit Lookin for a hero in stores, looking for heart of gold
locked in my head And my demons on da mend saying blessed be da dead blessed be da dead Shaking a bottle of boose And hugging da strap at your side Begging
on my shades Not phased by your hatred I'm probably a sadist the way that I'm smiling When snapping on niggas who tested my patience Y'all should be
Let's celebrate go pop a bottle Bitch shut the fuck up You ain't a model Never ever ever been that Never ever ever been that You never ever ever ever
still got my friends So pop the bottles in the ice just like we're setting a trend More bitter days are ahead But I won't rest till I'm dead We grow
dont need direction only guided by my mental I take off like a rocket from a launchpad all sad before they wasnt with me now they with you But they was
dogs and tear drips And looks like pantomime and clear bricks And smells like shotguns and deer piss They on their hunt, kinda salty that I'm going
Of Fame, Poodle Dog Rock, And The Mecca of Albino Squirrels We've been to ghost towns, theme parks, wax museums, And a place where you can drive through
Of Fame, Poodle Dog Rock, And The Mecca of Albino Squirrels We've been to ghost towns, theme parks, wax museums, And a place where you can drive through
I've been hanging by a thread Said you had to cut me off In terms of mental, I've been dead, body not too far I've been overdosing on you, mostly
pullin' heat out on niggas, takin' they ice off Niggas stay shootin' at me, but they'll never clap me All my opps is pussy, where the diamonds from dead
bottle Member they ain’t want me now these bitches tryna model Push a rocket till the sun down pulling on the throttle I done made my own wave all these
they're Mighty Mouse In the kitchen, Arm & Hammer, just the right amount Got the dope spot popping, dope spot jumping Car parked by itself, robot stunting
the socket Boy You gotta bottle rocket Some say that my wrist too flashy I stay great like mr gatsby Why so long I been the topic I got cash I don't deposit
like Michael Jordan I'll spit on it bitch Scratch your itch Like a dog's fleas Ya talk mean but lean back And take a thumbtack and nail it to a snail
Look this shit dedicated to everybody who told me I wouldn't be shit Who said I'd be dead or in prison by this age At one point I thought I would be
money is the code of the streets Live by it, and they say the hotter the bullets, the colder the streets Like the older the hammer, the older the beef
the rockets That lil bitch she choosing I hit her like rocky Bands in my pocket she told me I’m wilding Don’t take off my jeans bc I know she robbin
If Pirus and Crips all got along They'd probably gun me down by the end of this song Seem like the whole city go against me Every time I'm in
know what's gotten into me damn Mustve be the Hennessy Rest In Peace my enemies yea They either really dead or simply dead to me uh Should've been
I be down to ride with that rocket and get ‘em gone I can't let to many of people inside my home Remember what they done me those memories never
The cemetery really full of all our dead homies We used to bust down Rollo's, so put ice on they headstones And look over they kids before they grow up like you
Sound of Harlem in the rain Sane now, bottle here to blame Night owl, diamonds in the pond Wife now, widow by the dawn light Widow by the dawn Red
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