Dead Dogs Still Fetch ft. Crusoe Lyrics

It's just me, it's not you bruv

Keep my eyes peeled and my room shut

Paranoid lean or a fool drunk

Same old shit, I can feel that my moods fucked

It's not me, it's just you bruv

Keep my eyes peeled till you do one

Not paranoid g, what are you on

Hailing from the city of the eels

I remember scraping up a couple pennies for some meals

Now that's real

Now let me tell you what's the deal

Don't be looking at my face

Don't be asking how I feel

This is heat, can't catch it

Got 4K graphics

Word play can't match it

Make straight up classics

Go ask the bird that I'm shagging

My pipe game hard, whilst your CV flaccid

I'll say your girl is fake, you'll say that shit ain't true

That's why your girl knew her man whilst she was still with you

Now who's the fool

I'm just telling you the rules

Let me spit a couple facts

You'll be falling off your stool

You can hate but this is real life the truths in print

But you're fake all on the inside like Kim K's tits

Real truth hits, let me relay this

I'll put OJ on the stand, this time his glove fits

Got proof in check

If you think I'm telling lies dead dogs still fetch

Up until my death, when I take my last breath

If I'm not making any sense dead dogs still fetch

And again

Dead dogs still fetch

If you think I'm telling lies dead dogs still fetch

Up until my death, when I take my last breath

If I'm not making any sense dead dogs still fetch

Top brass of the township, kids try determine

What card had him crowned king, lived life suburban

Saw something in his eye, it twitch like the curtains

Same something tick the lines that'll pin stripe his burdens

Sits drip dried in bourbon, tryna phone a friend

But the people in his circle aint never spoke at length

He go from yoda then to boba fett, trust when a bro repents

But don't expect the man to hatch a dove from a cobra's egg

No regrets, it's my innocence to prove

With a solar-plexus fried by the icarus of youth

I think of you in a different life, crabs in a pint glass

Entombed in the kryptonite and dashed in the mine shaft

Life's hard but only when the money stands to win

Check em pie charts, Brodie

must be mad to think

You were type cast solely for that trusty lack of wit

And that cherub on your scapula that doesn't plan to quit

Got proof in check

If you think I'm telling lies dead dogs still fetch

Up until my death, when I take my last breath

If I'm not making any sense dead dogs still fetch

And again

Dead dogs still fetch

If you think I'm telling lies dead dogs still fetch

Up until my death, when I take my last breath

If I'm not making any sense dead dogs still fetch