BVDLVD - DEAD THAT lyrics
[BVDLVD - DEAD THAT lyrics]
Listen, all you people you business men
You waffle too fucking much, okay?
Dead it, dead it i don't wanna hear it
Shut the fuck up
B-b-business chat, just waffle
Dead that, uh all these cliques just awful
Dead that, uh you think you're immortal
Dead that, uh business chat, just waffle
Dead that
Dead that, dead that dead that, dead that
Dead, dead, dead that dead that, dead that
Dead, dead, dead that dead that, dead that
Dead, dead, dead that dead that, dead that
Dead, dead, dead
Hold tight LS, that’s certain
Plenty cliques are shit, we just merk 'em
Shit parents are crying, you hurt 'em
Pull up
Get a pole to ya head and that's curtains
You might just get cheffed then your dead
Fuck the finger prints
I’ll leave the fucking cheff in your head
U-u-use my two-tone creps to fuckin'
Stamp out your neck
Then I’ll test your pulse just
To check your dead then I’m skirting, skrt
I might go missing, uh, help
You might go missing too
I might just tie you up
And leave you in the boot
You think I’m lying, huh? (Huh?)
Well, that would just be rude
Yeah, I’m lying, uh
Wait, nah, nah, I'm not lying, nah
I I I think there's something wrong
With my mind
It don’t take a scientist to find
Out that I’m fucking insane
B-b-business chat, just waffle dead that, uh
All these cliques just awful dead that, uh
You think you're immortal dead that, uh
Business chat, just waffle dead that
Dead that, dead that dead that, dead that
Dead, dead, dead that dead that, dead that
Dead, dead, dead that dead that, dead that
Dead, dead, dead that dead that, dead that
Dead, dead, dead
You waffle too fucking much, okay?
Dead it, dead it i don't wanna hear it
Shut the fuck up
B-b-business chat, just waffle
Dead that, uh all these cliques just awful
Dead that, uh you think you're immortal
Dead that, uh business chat, just waffle
Dead that
Dead that, dead that dead that, dead that
Dead, dead, dead that dead that, dead that
Dead, dead, dead that dead that, dead that
Dead, dead, dead that dead that, dead that
Dead, dead, dead
Hold tight LS, that’s certain
Plenty cliques are shit, we just merk 'em
Shit parents are crying, you hurt 'em
Pull up
Get a pole to ya head and that's curtains
You might just get cheffed then your dead
Fuck the finger prints
I’ll leave the fucking cheff in your head
U-u-use my two-tone creps to fuckin'
Stamp out your neck
Then I’ll test your pulse just
To check your dead then I’m skirting, skrt
I might go missing, uh, help
You might go missing too
I might just tie you up
And leave you in the boot
You think I’m lying, huh? (Huh?)
Well, that would just be rude
Yeah, I’m lying, uh
Wait, nah, nah, I'm not lying, nah
I I I think there's something wrong
With my mind
It don’t take a scientist to find
Out that I’m fucking insane
B-b-business chat, just waffle dead that, uh
All these cliques just awful dead that, uh
You think you're immortal dead that, uh
Business chat, just waffle dead that
Dead that, dead that dead that, dead that
Dead, dead, dead that dead that, dead that
Dead, dead, dead that dead that, dead that
Dead, dead, dead that dead that, dead that
Dead, dead, dead