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lyrical scrublife loser p
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Losers. Guitars. Lyrics.
ScrubLife - We're better than sticking a nail through your foot.....sorta. I deleted Haggard because I don't like it, and there's a new, final version of Plea Bargin up. Ok, kids, it's finally fuckin here. The album you and Wilferd Brimley have been waiting for; The Cripes LP 17 songs depicting what it's like to be a lame-ass like myself, and all the things that float through my head daily as I avoid holding an actual job and any responsability what so ever. I so spelt responsibility wrong just then. Hell, probably did there, too. Ditch the old mp3s you may have, cuz this is all brand new, and re-demoed, it'll be this way until I get the actual studio album done. I know, you're salivaiting.... So check out all the new joints, and all the classics. If it's your first time here, check'em all out. I'm the champ, and this shit just kicks ass, bottom line.
Song Info
Charts
Peak #7,455
Peak in subgenre #942
Author
Austen Poole/Same
Rights
ScrubLife
Uploaded
January 21, 2004
Track Files
MP3
MP3 3.7 MB 128 kbps 0:00
Story behind the song
Women always wanna know what it'd be like to go on a date with me, well, here ya go...
Lyrics
Our first date equated greatness, lemme rephrase this Everything was going cool, till I had to pick up you You'd go for the door I mash the gas, jump a couple feet I's laughin so hard that, I puked on the seat Ah fuck it, put some fuckin newspaper on it Like I'm asking the world for you to sit in my vomit We'll go to a movie that I've seen three times You don't wanna see it? Well, we'll comprimise You can wait in the car, while I go inside You wanna detail this, while you're waiting a while? I never conversate, cuz they always talk a fool But I'm breaking the rules, some of your shit's kinda cool You wanan go to dinner? I ain't made outta gold We'll fly to the bakery, and cop some day olds biiiitch, you drive me crazy aaaaand you irritate me Buuuuut, I've got to admit Yeeeeah, you're ok bitch We should probably head home, now that dinner is done What's with your talks, goin on, that the night is still young? It's 9pm, I'm usually in bed 2 hours before then You're crazy with that kid You don't wanna go fuckin dancin do you? You realize it's stupid? Thank God, you're kinda cool Say we need gas as I laugh, chick, we got plenty Plus, I blew all your cash Half-a-mile away, you're pushing all the weight Of the car, me inside, hey, I suprvise and finally, we make it to my place You say you wanna stay, what, the night? Alright yo But I get the bed, you get the floor Here's a Spider-Man comforter, it gets pretty cold and I don't wanna hear you bitch, alright chick? Yeah, I guess tonight was pretty dope Chorus: biiiitch, you drive me crazy aaaaand you irritate me Buuuuut, I've got to admit Yeeeeah, you're ok bitch
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