Three Loco - We Are Farmers | Текст песни

• Тексты песен
• Three Loco
• We Are Farmers

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Chorus:

We are farmers, bum ba dum bum bum bum bum
We are farmers, bum ba dum bum bum bum bum
Bum bum, bum bum, bum bum bum bum, bum bum bum bum
We are farmers, bum ba dum bum bum bum bum

Call the cops, call the cops
Got mad motherfucking marijuana crops
Got lime trees and lemon trees
Got 20 dirty bitches down on their knees
Water, water, H2O
No big screens, no HBO
Tomato, tomato, potato, potato
These hoes just won the fat boy lotto
Ma'am, please let me use your grotto, hefty bitches is my motto
If you get on top, hooker, I think you might break my throttle
I'll knock your head off, you softer than a bitch's skin
You stupid bitches cannot win, fuck your wifey in the face
And then I'll take your next of kin, rented ten, I'll stick a dildo
In your fucking fish food, which dude's fish food
A rich dude's fish food, I got an iPad
IMac body and your mama sucks my dick when she's high on mollies
Mollies

Chorus:

We are farmers, bum ba dum bum bum bum bum
We are farmers, bum ba dum bum bum bum bum
Bum bum, bum bum, bum bum bum bum, bum bum bum bum
We are farmers, bum ba dum bum bum bum bum

Dirt Nasty and shit
This is agriculture
I grab a vulture
Who left that soda on the table?
Grab a coaster
Girls wanna cuddle
Yeah, they wanna snuggle
Aw, that's a cute teddy bear
Put it in your butt hole
Ooh what you know 'bout me, Dirt Nasty, bitch, I'm a farmer
Come through with a ugly ass ho, call her two-headed llama
She wanna sleep on me, better bring some pajamas
I got a white boy Entourage, Johnny Drama

Chorus:

We are farmers, bum ba dum bum bum bum bum
We are farmers, bum ba dum bum bum bum bum
Bum bum, bum bum, bum bum bum bum, bum bum bum bum
We are farmers, bum ba dum bum bum bum bum

Ay, yo
Spandex, Spandex, I pull up with a lamb text
Too strudel, toaster strudel, ballin' on you poodles
Two cougars, 40 plus, clutching Rugers
Blackout the two seater, MC Hammer, have you seen her
40 karats in the gallon
It's apparent, your parents, got 'em runnin' like mascara
Tempers flaring, I pull up in the Ric Flair McClaren
Four bad bitches on probation, are you sharing
Got 'em jealous, 20 inches, all you fellas chop the tellers
Got 'em running over Jerome Bettis, Versace lettuce
No dieting, Gucci eyelids, I go to sleep, snobby pilots

Chorus:

We are farmers, bum ba dum bum bum bum bum
We are farmers, bum ba dum bum bum bum bum
Bum bum, bum bum, bum bum bum bum, bum bum bum bum
We are farmers, bum ba dum bum bum bum bum