American Fangs - Death Of Me | Текст песни

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• American Fangs
• Death Of Me

I know the money’s information
So sick when it’s burning in you.
Romanced, you just hang by your erections
Slow vexed for the lover in you.
The proofs in a holier abortion
Oh boy they never want to say it.
They never want to say it.

You’re gonna be the death of me yea.
You’re gonna be the death of me yea.
Your’re gonna be my death.
You’re gonna be my death.

Trophies for your troubled indignation
Shining from the top of your stool.
Don’t say it cause they’ll hang you for attention
There’s enough rope for everyone too.
Who says that the rich can afford it
Oh boy they never want to say it.
They never want to say it.

You’re gonna be the death of me yea.
You’re gonna be the death of me yea.
Your’re gonna be my death.
You’re gonna be my death.

Living in the streets, the beats, the bitches
the niggas, the women, the children are they workers to whores?

Addicts, dealers, liars, the quiet the livest, the realest the children at home…at home breeding children of war.
At home, but we never want to say it.

We never want to say it.
We never want to say it.

You’re gonna be the death of me yea.
You’re gonna be the death of me yea.
Your’re gonna be my death.
You’re gonna be my death.

You’re gonna be the death of me.
You’re gonna be the death of me.
Your’re gonna be my death.
You’re gonna be my death.

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