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Deadline - Young Fathers



     
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Deadline Lyrics


Waiting to be rich, rip it to pieces
What do we sing now? Close to the deadline
No one remembers, shoulder to shoulder
We are pretenders, making the headlines
Signal the weekend, waiting they like eh
No other reason, tangled and frozen
No turning back oooooh, get set and ready
Greater dey numbers
The colour of money, trigger the lightning
The kids in the bedroom, waiting for harvest
Strong as a cutlass, guilty of nothing
Botched operation, witnessing somethingDon't you turn my home against me
Even if my house is empty
Don't you turn my home against me
Even if my house is empty
Don't you turn my home against me
Even if my house is empty
Don't you turn my home against me

Even if my house is empty
Songwriters
KAYUS BANKOLE, ALLOYSIOUS MASSAQUOI, GRAHAM HASTINGSPublished by
Lyrics © THIRD SIDE MUSIC INC.

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Ol’ Dirty chose his moniker because there was no father to his bastard style. Young Fathers earn theirs by making something so fresh it doesn’t yet have a name. These are three fellas from Edinburgh who’ve been working together since they were 14, who have an elastic mind meld that mimics their fused sensibility of sound, who one day locked themselves in a dingy Scottish basement and came out with something that’d never been done — a fearless combination of beat, rap and song that smells not only of its dark and dank birthplace, but of discovery and of communion.


Read more about Young Fathers on Last.fm.


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Young Fathers