DamnLyrics - The center provides all the lyrics

Firewater - Papa Mali



     
Page format: Left Center Right
Direct link:
BB code:
Embed:

Firewater Lyrics


Talkin' shit like shut up and listen to me
Because cutting through the crap is my specialty
Like a bomb I'm dropping yes a ton of lead
You're trying to figure out the last thing I said
I'm a redwood I love to be a tree yes I'm a druid
My words are flowing out like a fluid
Never give in never conform
I'll be bustin' out rhymes in a triplet form
Dead leaves on the trees in spring can't hear the birds sing
A light powdered snow on the ground is glistening
Vipers slither atop a colder ground they quiver
A crack in the sky snow is falling and inside we shiver
While I doze I suppose I could get lost
With a brown skin friend claiming kin to crazy horse
I stink of vino my greasy clothes are rancid but
I tip the bottle back the spirits are in me kid
Firewater call it liquid rapture
Into the flash and flames of my crazy nature

Firewater the world's a mixture
Of broken liquored people get the picture
Firewater call it liquid rapture
Into the flash and flames of my crazy nature
Firewater the world's a mixture
Of broken liquored people get the picture
Whiskey be spittle at the corners of my mouth
I'm rather liquored light flickers, I got the shakes and jitters
I roll I'm like raging bull bumrushin' the show
Hand to my head sway in the fire I've waded into
All alone except for the whiskey voices
Whores laugh, neon signs flash other choices
I stagger stumble to toast the past while I mumble
Slur my song slow porno show marquee words crumble
Firewater call it liquid rapture
Into the flash and flames of my crazy nature
Firewater the world's a mixture
Of broken liquored people get the picture
Firewater call it liquid rapture
Into the flash and flames of my crazy nature
Firewater the world's a mixture
Of broken liquored people get the picture
You're hangin' around the house with all your friends
Steady drinking smoking the green weed
And head is sort of blinking you're going with the flow
And everybody is getting plowed
The voices and the music and the noise is getting loud
You got a heavy buzz on when seven o'clock rolls around
So you piule inside the clunker start heading downtown
Only nineteen but you know where you can get it
So you slide inside the bar and everything is hitting
By about eleven o'clock your brain is near dead
You really can't remember who was the one that said
Let's go into the bathroom and meet this guy Chuck
He's got a thirty dollar white powder pick me up
Ten minutes later the whole vibe had changed
You try for conversation but you know you're acting strange
Your eyes are wide open but your smile is gone
You just keep fiending 'til the fucking break of dawn
Vipers slither atop a colder ground they quiver
A crack in the sky snow is falling and inside we shiver
While I doze I suppose

Enjoy the lyrics !!!

Malcolm Welbourne's personification "Papa Mali" is a salute to his home territory of north Louisiana. Malcolm was raised in Shreveport, where absorbing the blues along Bayou Pierre was just as much a matter of course as chasing the mosquito fogging truck with friends -- and equally intoxicating. He spent his summers with grandparents in New Orleans digging that city's rhythm (and blues) and after hearing the Wild Tchoupitoulas and the Meters on the streets of New Orleans at age eleven, he developed an early and ongoing attachment to Crescent City funk.

Read more about Papa Mali on Last.fm.


User-contributed text is available under the Creative Commons By-SA License and may also be available under the GNU FDL.

View All

Papa Mali