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Shit Shots Count - text


Put your cigarette out get your hat back on,
Don’t mix up which is which
They don’t pay you enough to work,
They don’t pay me enough to bitch
The boss ain’t smart as he’d like to be,
but he ain’t nearly as dumb as you think
He just wants evolution on a budget, with a schedule to keep

Suburban four lanes move like blood through an old mans dying heart
Enough at a time to keep hope alive at the speed of a stream of tar
He bought in young and I’ve no doubt,
he’s gonna cash out with a winning deal
Trophy tail wives taking boner pill rides for the price of a happy meal

Shit shots count if the table’s tilted
Just pay the man who levels the floor
Prides what you charge a proud man for having
Shame is what you sell to a whore
Meats just meat and it’s all born dying,
some is tender and some is tough
Somebody’s gotta mop up the A-1
somebody’s gotta mop up the blood

High ground ain’t high enough to kill you quick if you fall
Idealistically speaking it sounds like you ain’t listening at all
Friday night rich is all you’re ever gonna be
until the fight in you on Monday’s gone
One more drag, tuck your hair in your hat
don’t act so surprised, and try not to look so lost

Text přidala maja_11

Video přidala maja_11

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