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• Artiste: Boots
• Titre: Brooklyn Gamma
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It ain't as good as it gets If you got holes all over your chest My best day's your worst day Worst day is my best phrase That's just what I get Rub, squeezin' my neck The things I forget Lost in my hotel room, motionless [?] That's what we get Flies licking my face I'm 'bout to close off on this race Break ground, start again Break ground, start again [?] we can get Poison on my plate I'm lovin' all the same There's hands on my wrist In the form of a fist, in the form of a kiss Light up the sky Showing off your bag Showing off when you're dead Cut open the clone You were wearing all my clothes Well that's just what I get It ain't as good as it gets If you got holes all over your head [?] on my table, [?] in my rearview [?] on my hand the form of a fist At least I'm home For the lucky ones Until I do [?] At least I'm home For the lucky ones Until I do [?] Light up the sky You light up the sky Light up the sky Light up the sky Light up the sky Light up the sky Light up the sky Light up the sky Light up the sky At least I'm home For the lucky ones Light up the sky Light up the sky For the lucky ones