Waldfield - Ghost Suicide lyrics

Published

0 271 0

Waldfield - Ghost Suicide lyrics

[Intro] Back again with another caper for this. Like how does so much stuff happen to one witch? But it happened like this [Verse 1] The murder scene was a deal gone bad Ki's of speed and 10 g's exchanging hands Ty tests the stuff but chokes and gags sh**, that powder ain't meth, it's anthrax L drops the briefcase like "What the f**? You punks think that you can scam on us?" Ty is convulsing and starts to throw up ...That's when I show up They're like "Damn, it's Officer Fielding He busted us last year at the precicnt" Well that's what you get for pushin' on children Like they say, "It's called dope for a reason" I pull my gun and shout "You're under arrest" Smirking as I think about my bulletproof vest They all scatter; I forgot to say "Freeze" That's when I realize they're not trying to flee They're running to their cars to get more guns I start shooting, but don't hit anyone Guess I shouldn't have skipped my training And spent that week on my bicycle masturbating They surround me and then say "Drop it, copper" All I drop is my pants to let out my whopper They're like staring while it's flapping in the wind I fire more shots but miss em again (“I got shot in a shootout, and then I died”) But I commit ghost suicide and come back to life They wondered how I did it; they thought I was a goner I learned that trick from reading Waldfield's Corner Fools [Hook] ("The murder scene was a deal gone bad") ("The murder scene was a deal gone bad") [Interlude] Man, bein' a narcotics officer is tough. All I'm tryin' to do is clean the neighborhood up. But if that story wasn't enough, let me tell you some more stuff [Verse 2] Now they got me workin' undercover And i don't mean in between the sheets with your mother I'm wearing a long grey coat and all that Fake nose, eyebrows, and a mustache Twelve mafiose gathered in a swa*k office Cocaine on the table, I'm the one who bought it Pounding on the door, "Open up, it's the cops" They can't get in, cause the sh** is locked The gangsters look around, like "Who's the rat?" "Check the kid in the witch hat." I tell 'em "I ain't the one, ain't the two, or the three I'm just a girl with a pistol in my p**y" I pull out the Derringer and start to blast Then I reach for the grenade up in my a** I pull it out by the pin The pin comes out, and the grenade's still in, sh** Now I have to think quick Before my innards are coatin' the carpet I'll take a dump on the potted plant I shuffle over to it and lower my pants About to invent a new type of botany But I can't go with all these people tryna watch me ("VABOOM, everything blows up") And all before I could get the crown to show up I'm Dead Again, like the dumb Branagh flick But ghost suicide's a repeatable trick [Outro] ("West side, west side") The business with the grenade, don't try it. Unless you've got a lot of fiber in your diet. Can I go one track without getting blood on my shoes though, damn

You need to sign in for commenting.
No comments yet.