Your native language

عربي

Arabic

عربي

简体中文

Chinese

简体中文

Nederlands

Dutch

Nederlands

Français

French

Français

Deutsch

German

Deutsch

Italiano

Italian

Italiano

日本語

Japanese

日本語

한국인

Korean

한국인

Polski

Polish

Polski

Português

Portuguese

Português

Română

Romanian

Română

Русский

Russian

Русский

Español

Spanish

Español

Türk

Turkish

Türk

Українська

Ukrainian

Українська
User Avatar

Suono


Interfaccia


Livello di difficoltà


Accento



linguaggio dell'interfaccia

it

Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Gestione dei Cookie   |   Supporto   |   FAQ
1
registrati/accedi
Lyrkit

donare

5$

Lyrkit

donare

10$

Lyrkit

donare

20$

Lyrkit

E/o supportarmi sui social. reti:


Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
The Fratellis

The Pimp

 

The Pimp


La la la la la la lo,
La la la la la la lo,
La la la la la la lo,
La la la la la la lo

One time, two time
Giving' me a slow one
Flipping' lovers hands
With a trigger of a handgun

Three time, four time
Throw me on a big bed
Open up your mouth
I'll put a bullet in your dumb head

(Oh)

Big lips she shifts
Smells of a little hot sun
I know she can dance
But she really is a fat one
Well I must admit I was a little scared
When she got undressed
And it was bang bang bang
But she wasn't impressed

And it's all
Sick and gentle
It's all
Fucking mental
It's all
Over before it begins

And it's all
Worse than dying
It's all
Terrifying
It's all
Little pistols and pimps

Lying on this big girls floor
Tell me something
Tell me more
Pistols on her swollen bed
Pointing at my aching head

There was a singer in the windows
And a humming in my poor head,
She was smoking in the corner
And said I'll hold you, don't you feel dead

Well I must admit I was a little scared
When she got undressed
It was bang bang bang
But she wasn't impressed

And it's all
Sick and gentle
It's all
Fucking mental
It's all
Over before it begins

And it's all
Worse than dying
It's all
Terrifying
It's all
Little pistols and pimps

Lying on this big girls floor
Tell me something
Tell me more
Pistols on her swollen bed
Pointing at my aching head

Chase me half way down the street
Shooting' at my aching feet
Got no I.D
Got no clothes
Am I dead?
Christ only knows

Fatto

Hai aggiunto tutte le parole sconosciute di questa canzone?