e-dubble - Where We Are | Текст песни

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• Where We Are

Raise the roof, love the chase
let it burn with every taste
sippin' hard until it's easy
and you're feening for the bass
light's on cut em' off
we don't need them shits at all
we are blind to all their facts
but we are happy where we are like

we are happy where we are

at the bar in my jeans and a shirt I copped from target
talkin to some pretty ladies said their blouses from the forest
i said great--- I don't make clothes, but I could probably make those
unravel simple stitches when I cut my fucking BEAT LOW
no tops, no ceilings, outside, old buildings
lookin' like an indie picture that they made for the kids
but this kid- ain't having it cuz' roofs have advantages
I really ain't a fan of all this rain in my drink
SO DUMP IT OUT
and grab a fresh jawn- then on to the next one
my cup runneth over I am feeling upper eschelon
mistakes have been made and my attitude is shitty
but that's not reason enough to have this party turn pity
so we ohhing til' the sunrise, loose ends untied
hands stay dumb high, sippin' on that mumbai
gin and tonics grease the wheels, lemon, lime the rhines are peeled
we're monsters in the city so let's run this town like Cloverfield

robots can't drink but I know that I can
even on a double dose of zicam
ditch that riff raff,
antibodies, opiates and arms traded
like my veins were Taipan
this the part of the night where I black out
2 sheets to the wind need a snack now
no sheetz no wawa- only rofo in this town
stop playing- Jerry Stackhouse
i got my vices, they got their ices
and they booby trapped-- all the nice shit
so take a knee man-- and drink a smirnoff
it's not my cup of tea-- so I veer off
I'm on my way now, vision quest style
headphones and my battery has full power
fuck a cab cuz' the music drives me---
sober ride time cuz' my mind got high beamed
the gatorade soothes me, but I'm choosy
original colors cuz' the others never wooed me
no problem, I'm on that fruit punch
can't bully me, I never lose lunch
in other words I rarely vomit
the frequency is that of the Haley Comet
unless I'm on the mic than it's fairly common
ipecac to the stomach like I'm purging Ramen

then the sun comes back, and my lungs are full of air again
recall the night's events, hope I wasn't acting arrogant
but I probably was I was sippin' on the seraphin
purchased by some bougeoise broads who thought I was a terrapin
goddamn I'm a turtle with a hard shell
stubborn as a used car dealer with his hard sell
but I ain't buying it, I can still retire this
put the bottle down, pick it up and get high again

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