OutKast - Gasoline Dreams

Дата добавления: 05 сентября 2017

Формат: mp3

Исполнители: OutKast

Битрейт: 320 Kbps

Размер: 8.13 Mb

Продолжительность: 03:33

Просмотры: 0

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Текст песни

[Intro:]
Alright, alright! [×14]

[Chorus: André 3000]
Don't everybody like the smell of gasoline?
Well, burn, muthafucka, burn American dreams!
Don't everybody like the taste of apple pie?
Well, snap for your slice of life, I'm tellin' ya why.
I hear that Mother Nature now's on birth control,
The coldest pimp be lookin' for somebody to hold,
The highway up to heaven got a crook on the toll,
Youth full of fire ain't got nowhere to go, nowhere to go.

[Verse 1: André 3000]
All of my heroes did dope,
Every nigga round me playin' married or payin' child support.
I can't cope, never made no sense to me, one day, I hope it will,
And that's that, sport, sport,
Pray I live to see the day when Seven's happily married with kids.
Woe, woe! The world is movin' fast, and I'm losin' my balance,
Now time to dig low, low
To a place where ain't nowhere to go but up.
You with me say shit, sure, sure,
Now let me ask y'all this...

[Chorus: André 3000]
Don't everybody like the smell of gasoline?
Well, burn, muthafucka, burn American dreams!
Don't everybody like the taste of apple pie?
Well, snap for your slice of life, I'm tellin' ya why.
I hear that Mother Nature now's on birth control,
The coldest pimp be lookin' for somebody to hold,
The highway up to heaven got a crook on the toll,
Youth full of fire ain't got nowhere to go, nowhere to go.

[Verse 2: Big Boi]
It's shitty like Ricky Stratton got a million bucks,
My cousin Ricky Walker got ten years doin' fed time,
On a first offense drug bust, fuck the holice!
That's if ya racist or ya crooked,
Arrest me for this dope, I didn't weight it up or cook it,
You gotta charge the world ‘cause over a million people took it.
Look at me, I'm outta your jurisdiction, now ya lookin' stupid,
Officer, get off me, sir!
Don't make me call L.A., he'll have ya walkin', sir.
A couple of months ago they gave OutKast the key to the city,
But I still gotta pay my taxes, and they give us no pity.
About these youngsters amongst us,
You think they respect the law,
They think they monsters, they love us, reality rappin',
And givin' the youth the truth from this booth,
And when we on stage, we scream,
Don't everybody, everybody...

[Chorus: André 3000]
Don't everybody like the smell of gasoline?
Well, burn, muthafucka, burn American dreams!
Don't everybody like the taste of apple pie?
Well, snap for your slice of life, I'm tellin' ya why.
I hear that Mother Nature now's on birth control,
The coldest pimp be lookin' for somebody to hold,
The highway up to heaven got a crook on the toll,
Youth full of fire ain't got nowhere to go, nowhere to go.

[Verse 3: Khujo]
Officer of the most high,
You touch me, you touch the apple of this eye.
If they kick us out, where will we go?
Not to Africa ‘cause not one of them acknowledge us as their kin folk.
Still eatin' pork,
Abomination desecration for beatin' flesh,
Penalty for violation is death.
Woe, woe to the man that strive with his maker on Judgement Day.
Hip hip hooray!
Mr. Reaper, Babylon the great,
The mother of harlots is fallin', prophecy must be fulfilled,
The lake of fire is callin'.

[Chorus: André 3000]
Don't everybody like the smell of gasoline?
Well, burn, muthafucka, burn American dreams!
Don't everybody like the taste of apple pie?
Well, snap for your slice of life, I'm tellin' ya why.
I hear that Mother Nature now's on birth control,
The coldest pimp be lookin' for somebody to hold,
The highway up to heaven got a crook on the toll,
Youth full of fire ain't got nowhere to go, nowhere to go.

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