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lirik lagu dabbla - vomit

(verse 1 – dabbla)

how can i put this nicely, politely go f-ck yourself
you think i’ma drink to that cause it’s pricey?
none of that sh-t excites me
how can i put it in a way you be getting it so precisely
when i sum it up so concisely
i don’t give a f-ck who likes me, b-tch!
i’ma do my thing and if that ain’t good enough you can spin
ca’ it all depend on what mood i’m
i play at master pace when i’m doodling, b-tch!
oh gosh, shut the door my toes squashed
i’ll be there for the whole nine and come acclimatised to that cold wash
chaps feel, everything on my laps spilt
i don’t care if your’e self taught, you ain’t touching my rap skill
man are quick off the bat still, dragging in what the cat killed
keep my boots and my hat filled, glad i ain’t f-cked with that deal
just as well never sat still, relax chill
nar man that’s not me, fulled fledged you can f-ck off or go hard fam
but don’t come back with no bars man, it’s not as if the sh-ts hard fam
keep your hands off the gl-ss though, this is nothing but jah’s plan
(hook)

ever had a feeling when you knew it was gonna happen but you didn’t see it coming
whole life gone flash in a millisecond, you can feel the burp from the bottom of your stomach
ah man that’s not what you wanted, swallow that down now try not to vomit
vomit (ergh)
vomit (ergh)
vomit (ergh)
vomit (ergh)
a few puffs, a king set of guts and a bean i can trust, that’s all i ever wanted
i do raps, done a few laps, what i’ve noticed is that it’s all gas ’til its solid
i’ma bop by while i still got it, sod it, pick your way through while i vomit (ergh)
vomit (ergh)
vomit (ergh)
vomit (ergh)
vomit

(verse 2 – jam baxter)

oi, check the view on the tenth floor balcony
might take you a week, to a month, to a year to squeeze a single bar outta me
you live in a 2-d dream, cider pr-cks and uv jeans
been my own boss since 20-10 so i ain’t quite sure what routine means
breakfast movie at 2pm, yam lunch at news at ten
skip dinner, neck this liquor, another night with a brutal end
i’ve got french gash telling my (??)
i’m never wearing a suit again
lifes too crispy, i look like a typhoon hit me
i saw man back a whole bottle and now he’s telling me i am too tipsy
right who’s with me, let’s burn the town down, record the carnage
screaming infants and upload that sh-t straight to soundcloud
arsonist, full time narcissist, lifes been a blur since i found that friendly pharmacist
park the whip and barrel roll out the back
kill the show and count the cash, enjoy your ounce of crack
louder gasps, b-mp this in your whip and get it written off
and when you catch us back stage try not to p-ss us off
moving like a fuming swarm of killer wasps
blacked out garms like i’m channelling my inner goth

(hook)

- lirik lagu dabbla

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