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

Dźwięk


Interfejs


Poziom trudności


Akcent



język interfejsu

pl

Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Polityka Cookie   |   Wsparcie   |   FAQ
1
zarejestruj się / zaloguj
Lyrkit

podarować

5$

Lyrkit

podarować

10$

Lyrkit

podarować

20$

Lyrkit

I/lub wesprzyj mnie w mediach społecznościowych. sieci:


Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
MF Doom

Meat Grinder

 

Meat Grinder

(album: Madvillainy - 2004)


Tripping off the beat kinda, dripping off the meat grinder
Heat niner, pimping, stripping, soft sweet minor
China was a neat signer, trouble with the script
Digits double dipped, bubble lipped, subtle lisp midget
Borderline schizo, sort of fine tits though
Pour the wine, whore to grind, quarter to nine, let's go
Ever since ten eleven, glad she made a brethren
Then it's last down, seven alligator seven, at the gates of heaven
Knocking, no answer, slow dancer, hopeless romancer, dopest flow stanzas
Yes, no? Villain, Metal face to Destro
Guess so, still incredible in escrow
Just say Ho! I'll test the yayo
Wild West style fest, y'all best to lay low
Hey bro, Day Glo, set the bet, pay dough
Before the cheddar get away, best to get Maaco
The worst hated God who perpetrated odd favors
Demonstrated in the perforated Rod Lavers
...In all quad flavors, Lord save us
Still back in the game like Jack LaLanne
Think you know the name, don't rack your brain
On a fast track to half insane
Either in a slow beat or that the speed of "Wrath of Kane"
Laughter, pain
Hackthoo'ing songs lit, in the booth, with the best host
Doing bong hits, on the roof, in the west coast
He's at it again
Mad at the pen
Glad that we win, a tad fat, in a bad hat for men
Grind the cinnamon, Manhattan warmongers
You can find the villain in satin, congas
The van screeches
The old man preaches
About the gold sand beaches
The cold hand reaches
For the old tan Ellesse's
...Jesus

zrobione

Czy dodałeś wszystkie nieznane słowa z tej piosenki?