Song | Gimme Gimme Gunshots |
Artist | P.O.S. |
Album | Ipecac Neat |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
作曲 : Turbo Nemesis | |
(Well, some of you might be sayin' like they tryin' not to like us | |
But we, we want you to know we good) | |
I am a gun | |
{Huh} | |
Okay frustration takes a fast cat | |
And slows 'em down like a bullet forced through layers | |
of disgusting Biggie Smalls fat | |
Still gets the job done, | |
But only now it takes like ten gun claps to stab the fat of just one | |
The effort of a bullet through a hero Cheesecake armor | |
Doesn't make him less a hero, more a metaphor for life, | |
My effort works in full clips | |
Only hero is a farmer | |
Cause he helps me fatten up and that's my bullet into strife | |
I knew this guy, hell bent on getting over | |
I said help me paint this Fence, shit | |
"Oh my god it's fun!" | |
But it wasn't... I called him Huckleberry Fuckup | |
Cause he pulled that crap like every day and nothing ever got done | |
The frustrated, crumble under the weight of their own | |
bungling hate of their own brain | |
Effort's like a gunshot - a split second of man-made perfection | |
Dial up speed and direction | |
So.. | |
[Chorus] | |
Let me give a little cause to the flickering sun | |
Stop, drop, then gimme props, gimme gunshots | |
Gimme all that work, gimme ink spots | |
Gimme all that hurt, gimme snapshots | |
Lemme get a photograph and laugh under your bad news | |
Cut the wet words, give me effort | |
Let me give a little cause to the bickering | |
Then stop stop the start start for flickering | |
Gimme work, gimme hurt, gimme effort | |
Kill the weak plots, gimme gimme gunshots | |
Kill the weak plots, gimme gimme gunshots | |
Kill the weak plots, gimme gimme guns | |
[Bridge] | |
I can't deny it, I'm a straight rider | |
You don't wanna fuck with DoomTree | |
[Verse 2] | |
I've got ambitions of a writer | |
Like another famed victim of effort | |
Less effort though | |
Well...I guess he took it and smiled | |
Five shots couldn't stop the knowledge dropper | |
Turned Posthumous tip jar and clone donor | |
But fifteen could | |
(maybe it was 14) | |
Give me the strength to pierce, flesh | |
The highest caliber of focus that'll give me death | |
The hammer pin, powder push | |
A simple try'll do, I won't lie to you | |
I'm simply trying to let that blood gush | |
I'm simply trying to slip past mediocrity's lips | |
Just wanna kill that bitch from the inside, | |
The thorny Doom branch on the side of every blank loaded | |
Armchair thinker, and backseat liver | |
Your Parents mock people like Anne Rice | |
You parody passion | |
My bullet will will not think twice before before bashing | |
(I won't) | |
(thank god i put effort into every little fucking thing i do) | |
So.. | |
[Chorus] | |
Let me give a little cause to the flickering sun | |
Stop, drop, then gimme props, gimme gunshots | |
Gimme all that work, gimme ink spots | |
Gimme all that hurt, gimme snapshots | |
Lemme get a photograph and laugh under your bad news | |
Cut the wet words, give me effort | |
Let me give a little cause to the bickering | |
Then stop stop the start start for flickering | |
Gimme work, gimme hurt, gimme effort | |
Kill the weak plots, gimme gimme gunshots | |
Kill the weak plots, gimme gimme gunshots | |
Uh Uh Uh | |
Let me give a little cause to the flickering sun | |
Stop, drop, then gimme props, gimme gunshots | |
Gimme all that work, gimme ink spots | |
Gimme all that hurt, gimme snapshots | |
Lemme get a photograph and laugh under your bad news | |
Cut the wet words, give me effort | |
Let me give a little cause to the bickering | |
Then stop stop the start start for flickering | |
Gimme work, gimme hurt, gimme effort | |
Kill the weak plots, gimme gimme gunshots | |
Kill the weak plots, gimme gimme g' gimme gimme gimme guns | |
(Bang) | |
(Pow) | |
(stop the beat) |
zuo qu : Turbo Nemesis | |
Well, some of you might be sayin' like they tryin' not to like us | |
But we, we want you to know we good | |
I am a gun | |
Huh | |
Okay frustration takes a fast cat | |
And slows ' em down like a bullet forced through layers | |
of disgusting Biggie Smalls fat | |
Still gets the job done, | |
But only now it takes like ten gun claps to stab the fat of just one | |
The effort of a bullet through a hero Cheesecake armor | |
Doesn' t make him less a hero, more a metaphor for life, | |
My effort works in full clips | |
Only hero is a farmer | |
Cause he helps me fatten up and that' s my bullet into strife | |
I knew this guy, hell bent on getting over | |
I said help me paint this Fence, shit | |
" Oh my god it' s fun!" | |
But it wasn' t... I called him Huckleberry Fuckup | |
Cause he pulled that crap like every day and nothing ever got done | |
The frustrated, crumble under the weight of their own | |
bungling hate of their own brain | |
Effort' s like a gunshot a split second of manmade perfection | |
Dial up speed and direction | |
So.. | |
Chorus | |
Let me give a little cause to the flickering sun | |
Stop, drop, then gimme props, gimme gunshots | |
Gimme all that work, gimme ink spots | |
Gimme all that hurt, gimme snapshots | |
Lemme get a photograph and laugh under your bad news | |
Cut the wet words, give me effort | |
Let me give a little cause to the bickering | |
Then stop stop the start start for flickering | |
Gimme work, gimme hurt, gimme effort | |
Kill the weak plots, gimme gimme gunshots | |
Kill the weak plots, gimme gimme gunshots | |
Kill the weak plots, gimme gimme guns | |
Bridge | |
I can' t deny it, I' m a straight rider | |
You don' t wanna fuck with DoomTree | |
Verse 2 | |
I' ve got ambitions of a writer | |
Like another famed victim of effort | |
Less effort though | |
Well... I guess he took it and smiled | |
Five shots couldn' t stop the knowledge dropper | |
Turned Posthumous tip jar and clone donor | |
But fifteen could | |
maybe it was 14 | |
Give me the strength to pierce, flesh | |
The highest caliber of focus that' ll give me death | |
The hammer pin, powder push | |
A simple try' ll do, I won' t lie to you | |
I' m simply trying to let that blood gush | |
I' m simply trying to slip past mediocrity' s lips | |
Just wanna kill that bitch from the inside, | |
The thorny Doom branch on the side of every blank loaded | |
Armchair thinker, and backseat liver | |
Your Parents mock people like Anne Rice | |
You parody passion | |
My bullet will will not think twice before before bashing | |
I won' t | |
thank god i put effort into every little fucking thing i do | |
So.. | |
Chorus | |
Let me give a little cause to the flickering sun | |
Stop, drop, then gimme props, gimme gunshots | |
Gimme all that work, gimme ink spots | |
Gimme all that hurt, gimme snapshots | |
Lemme get a photograph and laugh under your bad news | |
Cut the wet words, give me effort | |
Let me give a little cause to the bickering | |
Then stop stop the start start for flickering | |
Gimme work, gimme hurt, gimme effort | |
Kill the weak plots, gimme gimme gunshots | |
Kill the weak plots, gimme gimme gunshots | |
Uh Uh Uh | |
Let me give a little cause to the flickering sun | |
Stop, drop, then gimme props, gimme gunshots | |
Gimme all that work, gimme ink spots | |
Gimme all that hurt, gimme snapshots | |
Lemme get a photograph and laugh under your bad news | |
Cut the wet words, give me effort | |
Let me give a little cause to the bickering | |
Then stop stop the start start for flickering | |
Gimme work, gimme hurt, gimme effort | |
Kill the weak plots, gimme gimme gunshots | |
Kill the weak plots, gimme gimme g' gimme gimme gimme guns | |
Bang | |
Pow | |
stop the beat |
zuò qǔ : Turbo Nemesis | |
Well, some of you might be sayin' like they tryin' not to like us | |
But we, we want you to know we good | |
I am a gun | |
Huh | |
Okay frustration takes a fast cat | |
And slows ' em down like a bullet forced through layers | |
of disgusting Biggie Smalls fat | |
Still gets the job done, | |
But only now it takes like ten gun claps to stab the fat of just one | |
The effort of a bullet through a hero Cheesecake armor | |
Doesn' t make him less a hero, more a metaphor for life, | |
My effort works in full clips | |
Only hero is a farmer | |
Cause he helps me fatten up and that' s my bullet into strife | |
I knew this guy, hell bent on getting over | |
I said help me paint this Fence, shit | |
" Oh my god it' s fun!" | |
But it wasn' t... I called him Huckleberry Fuckup | |
Cause he pulled that crap like every day and nothing ever got done | |
The frustrated, crumble under the weight of their own | |
bungling hate of their own brain | |
Effort' s like a gunshot a split second of manmade perfection | |
Dial up speed and direction | |
So.. | |
Chorus | |
Let me give a little cause to the flickering sun | |
Stop, drop, then gimme props, gimme gunshots | |
Gimme all that work, gimme ink spots | |
Gimme all that hurt, gimme snapshots | |
Lemme get a photograph and laugh under your bad news | |
Cut the wet words, give me effort | |
Let me give a little cause to the bickering | |
Then stop stop the start start for flickering | |
Gimme work, gimme hurt, gimme effort | |
Kill the weak plots, gimme gimme gunshots | |
Kill the weak plots, gimme gimme gunshots | |
Kill the weak plots, gimme gimme guns | |
Bridge | |
I can' t deny it, I' m a straight rider | |
You don' t wanna fuck with DoomTree | |
Verse 2 | |
I' ve got ambitions of a writer | |
Like another famed victim of effort | |
Less effort though | |
Well... I guess he took it and smiled | |
Five shots couldn' t stop the knowledge dropper | |
Turned Posthumous tip jar and clone donor | |
But fifteen could | |
maybe it was 14 | |
Give me the strength to pierce, flesh | |
The highest caliber of focus that' ll give me death | |
The hammer pin, powder push | |
A simple try' ll do, I won' t lie to you | |
I' m simply trying to let that blood gush | |
I' m simply trying to slip past mediocrity' s lips | |
Just wanna kill that bitch from the inside, | |
The thorny Doom branch on the side of every blank loaded | |
Armchair thinker, and backseat liver | |
Your Parents mock people like Anne Rice | |
You parody passion | |
My bullet will will not think twice before before bashing | |
I won' t | |
thank god i put effort into every little fucking thing i do | |
So.. | |
Chorus | |
Let me give a little cause to the flickering sun | |
Stop, drop, then gimme props, gimme gunshots | |
Gimme all that work, gimme ink spots | |
Gimme all that hurt, gimme snapshots | |
Lemme get a photograph and laugh under your bad news | |
Cut the wet words, give me effort | |
Let me give a little cause to the bickering | |
Then stop stop the start start for flickering | |
Gimme work, gimme hurt, gimme effort | |
Kill the weak plots, gimme gimme gunshots | |
Kill the weak plots, gimme gimme gunshots | |
Uh Uh Uh | |
Let me give a little cause to the flickering sun | |
Stop, drop, then gimme props, gimme gunshots | |
Gimme all that work, gimme ink spots | |
Gimme all that hurt, gimme snapshots | |
Lemme get a photograph and laugh under your bad news | |
Cut the wet words, give me effort | |
Let me give a little cause to the bickering | |
Then stop stop the start start for flickering | |
Gimme work, gimme hurt, gimme effort | |
Kill the weak plots, gimme gimme gunshots | |
Kill the weak plots, gimme gimme g' gimme gimme gimme guns | |
Bang | |
Pow | |
stop the beat |