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taco hemingway - listening to arctic monkeys lyrics

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verse 1:
filip in this b-tch like a hound barking super fast
smoke rising up to the lungs from a hookah gl-ss
left hand, red stripe, like the ‘murican flag
jacking the white out of your sight, making you super sad
stranger than a nun who decided to wear skirts more
smell the microphone like the dome of my first born
“achy breaky” billy ray, he told me i should twerk more
emcees running out of bars you better call the jerk store
or at&t. tell me your mates hate me
it’s making me fairly angry, like – really? – why would you say it to me
i’m from poland but the internet made me
t–th f-cked, though i haven’t smoked cigarettes lately
this that new stuff, it sucks, let me bust a few
lady luck, i’m just being blunt, got a crush on you
zero point seven per throat, just like the russians do
polish people too, i’m like tevez, very emotional
name’s filip. last name unpr-nounceable
mentally ill, i’m thinking ’bout what would house do
i do my own thing i bang some loud tunes
police banging at my door like i wasn’t allowed to

chorus:
i was just listening to “marvin’s room”
i was just listening to arctic monkeys
i was just listening to dangerdoom
but if you want, you can come in and f-cking cuff me
x2

verse 2:
words shooting out like midgets from cannons
shipping death, i’m on fire like i’m swimming for stannis
i hit the water to cool off, take your chick to atlantis
i ride some sea wh0r-s for a while, then i’m tickling salmons

that was a p-ssy joke, i’m kind of embarr-ssed
rappers claiming they are michael, f-ck it, call me maharis
ain’t his first language, dude is rapping with mad talent
going hard at it, since he moved out of his dad’s phallus, ugh

let me bring it down a bit
here i sit, couple buckets, 80 pounds of spit
i should send it to the healers, even, better the dealers
and i would measure it in liters but its kind of thick, you know.

i’m a valleyman, sucking on mangos
hemingway is that f-cker always causing a scandal
anyway, then i motherf-cking buck’em like django
tell it straight, count two doors, then hop in the lambo

i’m a godd-mn dirty pollack
man i can’t believe i’m drinking freaking coca cola
went to paris, that’s the only reason lisa is mona
i drank red, then i p-ssed out on the street corner

woke up in london just to get my diploma
actual master of science on this microphone
i’m back home play just to bump some f-cking kendrick, hol’up
somebody’s banging at my door, the neighbor’s must’ve called up



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