Текст песни Childish Gambino — Fire

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Where we were, kinda thing
Betchya crawl, all alone
Where we were, kinda thing
Betchya crawl, all alone
Where we were, kinda thing
Betchya crawl, all alone
Where we were, kinda thing
Betchya crawl, all alone

Who am I?
Rec League, I ain't payin' to ball
Y'all B-string like a broke guitar

And I still put it down like the family dog
Yeah. I murder some, I murder one
Explain it all, Ferguson
We ain't gotta sing the same old love song
Cut a white girl with the same black gloves on
Yeah what you saying to it?
Old money look, new money go do it
Make 'em turn around in their lane like a U-ey
And I'm only looking back if I'm looking at her booty
(At her Boooty)
What's the rationale?
They wanna smoke niggas when they Black & Mild
So we acting out
Ok cool
Where we were, kinda thing
Betchya crawl, all alone
Where we were, kinda thing
Betchya crawl, all alone

Where we were, kinda thing

Betchya crawl, all alone

Where we were, kinda thing

Betchya crawl, all alone
Blue dream by the bouquet 'til I'm blue faced on a Tuesday
(Can I have some?)
Put a plus eighteen on that e-vite
And I said what I felt, no re-write
Nah nah, they can't hold me
June/July, drop something
I double dare you, I'm Marc Summers
I scorch winters, I burn autumns
Gut niggas, so Kurt Vonne
Elle Varner, got a crush on her
I gotta wait in line for that
Ain't nobody got time for that
Ain't nobody gotta rhyme with that
Too true like it's 2 Chainz
Blue Blood like he both gangs
Where we were, kinda thing
Betchya crawl, all alone
Where we were, kinda thing
Betchya crawl, all alone
Where we were, kinda thing
Betchya crawl, all alone
Where we were, kinda thing

Betchya crawl, all alone
Where we were, kinda thing
Betchya crawl, all alone
Where we were, kinda thing
Betchya crawl, all alone

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