funkoars - let you go lyrics
[intro: sample]
alcohol
i gotta have a little talk with you
i’m gonna treat you just like you treated me
[verse 1: hons]
i drink bottle after bottle of
anything that my wallet can afford, just to build up my tolerance
hons rack the bottle and gate crash a club night
backstage vip writer when i rum high
drinking like my bucks night life’s all right
my legs never move three feet past the bar
and i’m a [?] ‘til my liver want to taunt me
ginny packed up and legs can’t support me
i love the sauce like j lo loves divorce
iron stomach with the first for the main course
now that’s ‘oars in a nutshell
hanging with skirts at the bar then at [?] like they suck well
flirtatious season drinker
when i’m wasted, it’s mr sleasy fingers
now, hide the liquor when the ‘oars rock up
to gate crash a party, bring it back when the cops come (oh)
[hook: trials]
you gotta give it up
you gotta put it down
you gotta give it up
flashy put it down, come on
[verse 2: sesta]
i got it bad for the good shit
scratched out, i got it for the good and the bad [?]
[?] once i get open
yeah, it was me who made him bleed, but i don’t know what the f-ck we’re fighting over
wait for rights to silence, when i call the cop
c-ck sucker reaching for my privates
i ain’t lying, i’m trying to quit it
i’m sitting off it (ay) like (ay) where’s the [?] (ay)
we make the music you drink and drop to
then start the tetris part, that’s where the blocks move
that’s where the cops move and surround the house
i need to bounce, i’m quick with the clean out
me and tequila got it ‘gether like [?] and aladdin
the backpack of the (huh) like it even matters
give me more, give me more, give me more
give me more, give me more, give me more, gotta let you go
[hook: trials]
you gotta give it up
you gotta put it down
you gotta give it up
flashy put it down, come on
[interlude: trials (sesta)]
hey, chill, hey, hold the f-ck on a sec
hey, check this out, hey, one two
hey, cruising down the street in my shit ford
knocking the spirits, smashing the bogs
too drunk out my -rs- to get the root
so i say (what you say?) so i said (what he say?)
[verse 3: trials]
come drink with the [?] rotten guy
mad like the first dude [?] and junior [?] and got ’em high
swinging it straight got me doing dumb shit
i need to find some mixes like heidi klum’s kids
i’m a product to the liquid, living in pig shit
drinking a pimp shit
drown my sorrows with a pie card, the life [?] for the walk home
banging double slease burger motherf-cking porthole
i stumble (bleargh) stagger
bunch of drunks that learn to walk the club call to get me maggot
i don’t mean maggot like a bunch of flies (chill)
i mean maggot like [?] a bunch of pills
[?] when the ‘oars in town
we bring the funk underground like billy and james brown
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