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Correction Lyrics
Quiet Trip
by
Portugal. The Man
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Lyrics
Oh my, God, I can't believe my eyes Wake up everybody you know Come on watch the garden grow I'll see you when you get there Uh, alright, yeah, two fifteen, yo Downtown for the win, woah Sean C for the tempo, Portugal for the intro This is Arctical Don Disco from the one choir Calling shots like an umpire Where I live, yo, man, I done lost mad kinfolk Over gunfire through the window As a young squire who become Sire I had no way to tell what I was in for I was 5'9" like Royce with the giant voice like MikŠµ Winslow Never been quite likŠµ them so I'm on my own time Mind darker than a coal mine Thoughts deeper than a coal mine So I'm out here slangin' on this blade Hopin' that I don't get cut by these police Makin' raids on those of us who know what's up My lil' homies, my lil' sons Got them keys and they got them drums Making superstitious runs on them insufficient funds No more rules in this here sh*t, toddlers packin' a revolver How the hell you robbers gonna rob the robber? See you with that heater, you sweeter than peach cobbler If it ain't about that paper, then man that ain't what Reek habla Man, you know what's goin', they say, "Woke about that dope" Ask them fiends about them keys, 'bout that coke, 'bout that smoke Two fifteen my city, man, and we it from 'round here If it's crazy where you at then, it ain't no different 'round here
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