Представляем точный текст композиции "1,2,3,4,5,6,7" и глубже погружаем в смыслы творчества артиста Transplants . Эта интерпретация слов песни помогает лучше понять смысл заложенный в композицию. Лирика «1,2,3,4,5,6,7» — это не просто строчки, а история, которую Transplants передаёт через ритм и интонации. Изучайте переводы, оригинальные версии и толкования, чтобы раскрыть все грани этого трека.
Transplants - "1,2,3,4,5,6,7"
Lyrics to 1,2,3,4,5,6,7 : [chorus:] 1,2,3,4,5,6,7 no one heres gonna get to go to heaven no one heres gonna get to go to heaven no one heres gonna get to go to heaven the first one to speak, be the first one to leave, get your loved ones gagged and bound in bed sheets. six deep, full heap, best be quick on the draw, yous a snitch, yous a bitch, you get left where you are. i roll with killas who got strikes, dealers who catch cases, SkinHeads and Mohicans, tattoos on their faces. bring it til your dead, bass is, get to bumpin your gun, all these cowards talk shit, all these cowards gonna run. im not one, got my gun, got the handle whipped out, it all goes down, you only go for yourself. not me, i cant call it, id die for the team, smoking sacks in the shack, getting high with the team. let it fly with the beam, infra-red on your head, every last muthafucka wanna leave me for dead. cant be happy that im livin, you pray that i fall, BUT IM A DEAD MAN WALKING, I AINT LIVIN AT ALL! [chorus] all the time that you hate, its time that you waste, wake up fucken wet with a 9 to your face. in any case, hit the brakes, youre doing too much, my hearts blacker than the grip in the Grip that i clutch. who wants what' it goes down, right here in your town, i swear to god im not laughing, with a permanent frown. dont make a sound, i spit rounds, leave your dick in the dirt, shotgun, with the shotgun aimed at your heart. it gets worse, i been cursed, smash your life like a verse, weed blast, weed mask, when we drive thru your turf. nobody came to talk, aint nobody playin games, kickin everybodys ass, cross out everybodys name. fucken lame thats how it goes, fuck wax and fuck shows, fuck the track, fuck the mic, fuck hoes and fuck bros! do yourself a favor and keep your thoughts to yourself, im sellin drugs to my label and my label blew up, without help. [chorus] not taking shit from anybody, leavin spouses in tears, youll get mangled if we tangle, ill be poundin the peel. 3 chips, who got next' lets go, you get stomped, anytime, any place, anywhere that you want. hold your tongue son, you slip, you get fucked, at your show in the parking lot fightin, wont take long. leave your whole gash flappin, know why it has happened, i love to watch you fall like Freeman loves watchin Patton. why the fuck would i die and live to please you, keepin company with thugs and drugs and heat too. speed bump, head slice, we aint travelin light, as i hit the dipstick bring a tear to my eye. i stay high, do or die, finding peace in myself, you live a lie, run and hide, die with everyone else. fuck the world, kill em all, and this you can trust, cause muthafuckas hit the dirt when muthafuckas hit the dust. [chorus] [ 1,2,3,4,5,6,7 Lyrics ]
Содержание трека помогает не только запомнить любимые строки, но и ощутить связь с Transplants. Возможно, вы заметите, как лирика «1,2,3,4,5,6,7» перекликается с вашим опытом, или найдёте ответы на давние вопросы. Эта страница создана для ценителей музыки: здесь вы сохраните текст для личного использования, поделитесь им с друзьями или используете в творчестве. Погружайтесь в мир слов композиции «1,2,3,4,5,6,7» — каждая строчка здесь обретает новый смысл.