Lemon Rinds - Preservation/Billy Woods.lrc

LRC歌词下载

[00:00.000] 作词 : F. Porter
[00:01.000] 作曲 : Jean Daval
[00:03.051] Why did you come to stay in Hong Kong
[00:06.210] You don't know then, what I'm doing here
[00:11.464] I made it easy for her to leave, word to God
[00:14.661] Five years a show, that's that old college try
[00:17.861] 4-20 blackbirds baked in the pie
[00:21.220] Cut it open, they fly out alive (If it please the king)
[00:25.249] In practice, avoid tryhard bammers tryna make the team
[00:28.229] New n!ggas who just wanna hang
[00:29.921] Pop up, whack-a-mole, I'm not in the picture frame
[00:33.268] Embarrassed when you seen that
[00:35.245] Tube of skin-lightening cream (If it please the queen)
[00:38.802] She came like the wench, she wore sharp rings
[00:41.805] First date but the picture on her easel was him, unsettling
[00:45.469] But he old enough to know that what you get for meddling
[00:48.635] Back still hurt but there ain't no more medicine
[00:51.406] That's when the demon said, "Let us in"
[00:53.568] Nowhere to hide, start Jeckyllin'
[00:55.899] People walk 'round like weren't nev' gon' be a reckoning
[00:59.363] Lemon rind to the ash, black roses in her lap
[01:02.835] Give him his flowers, squiggly lines coming off the bags
[01:06.480] Still wrapped like it's a fad, still drift off, thinking of the past
[01:11.576] Snapback
[01:13.892] Lemon rind to the ash, black roses in her lap
[01:16.813] Give him his flowers, squiggly lines coming off the bags
[01:20.297] Still wrapped like it's a fad, still drift off, thinking of the past
[01:27.827] If they laugh at the wrong time, I'm on the direct flight to South Africa
[01:31.678] I've been wasting time since the back of the aero Acura
[01:34.739] The politics in space, colonialism, and Bram Stoker's Dracula
[01:38.330] Two doors down where Curly Castro
[01:41.543] I've been at it, this just fuccing padding stats
[01:46.907] Padding stats
[01:48.831] Body in the morgue, the spirit loiter
[01:51.521] Give thanks, Lord, Yom Kippur
[01:53.414] Bigger Thomas at the furnace, feed the boiler
[01:56.098] Oily black smoke sour-sweet like meat burning
[01:59.415] Blackface burnish, black hearse, black curtains
[02:02.590] Or shadows like steeples on churches
[02:05.190] Louisiana Purchase in the duffel, nervous
[02:08.467] Conditions, he won't listen, he's riffing while I'm telling him stuff
[02:12.272] Nodding like I'm listening, wondering when we gone
[02:15.742] Hey it's fucced up because it's true
[02:22.666] If they laugh at the wrong time, man, I'm going to South Africa, man
[02:29.914] True
[02:34.581] First-class the whole way
[02:37.140] No check bags

文本歌词

作词 : F. Porter
作曲 : Jean Daval
Why did you come to stay in Hong Kong
You don't know then, what I'm doing here
I made it easy for her to leave, word to God
Five years a show, that's that old college try
4-20 blackbirds baked in the pie
Cut it open, they fly out alive (If it please the king)
In practice, avoid tryhard bammers tryna make the team
New n!ggas who just wanna hang
Pop up, whack-a-mole, I'm not in the picture frame
Embarrassed when you seen that
Tube of skin-lightening cream (If it please the queen)
She came like the wench, she wore sharp rings
First date but the picture on her easel was him, unsettling
But he old enough to know that what you get for meddling
Back still hurt but there ain't no more medicine
That's when the demon said, "Let us in"
Nowhere to hide, start Jeckyllin'
People walk 'round like weren't nev' gon' be a reckoning
Lemon rind to the ash, black roses in her lap
Give him his flowers, squiggly lines coming off the bags
Still wrapped like it's a fad, still drift off, thinking of the past
Snapback
Lemon rind to the ash, black roses in her lap
Give him his flowers, squiggly lines coming off the bags
Still wrapped like it's a fad, still drift off, thinking of the past
If they laugh at the wrong time, I'm on the direct flight to South Africa
I've been wasting time since the back of the aero Acura
The politics in space, colonialism, and Bram Stoker's Dracula
Two doors down where Curly Castro
I've been at it, this just fuccing padding stats
Padding stats
Body in the morgue, the spirit loiter
Give thanks, Lord, Yom Kippur
Bigger Thomas at the furnace, feed the boiler
Oily black smoke sour-sweet like meat burning
Blackface burnish, black hearse, black curtains
Or shadows like steeples on churches
Louisiana Purchase in the duffel, nervous
Conditions, he won't listen, he's riffing while I'm telling him stuff
Nodding like I'm listening, wondering when we gone
Hey it's fucced up because it's true
If they laugh at the wrong time, man, I'm going to South Africa, man
True
First-class the whole way
No check bags