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Living down here they throw me down and count me
I`m making this up, it keeps my feathers clean and the black boys they kick my ass and tell me that the women their ruby lips are dry. I get angry and I get sad and I lose this sweetness that I used to have and I boil my strings to get them back to gold sleeping in here they give me plenty to eat don`t make trouble, make something with the concrete so I fill my pipes with it to break them black boys heads Lord, but I wish I had a gun.
Прямая ссылка на текст песни Boil my Strings: http://musworld.ru/music/eng/106/1/12538.html » Gourds - Bean Bowl » Gourds - Up On High » Gourds - Ghosts Of Hallelujah » Gourds - Up On High » Gourds - (The new way of) GRIEVIN` & SMOKIN` » Gourds - Boil my Strings » Gourds - Lament » Gourds - Money Honey » Gourds - All the Labor » Gourds - I Come Up » Gourds - Trampled by the Sun » Gourds - Bean Bowl » Gourds - Sweet lil Lub » Gourds - New Way Of Grievin And Smokin » Gourds - Pinetar Rampart » Gourds - LGO » Gourds - My Time Yer Time » Gourds - Gangsta Lean » Gourds - Trampled by the Sun » Gourds - Pushed Her Down |
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