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Mind of a Dirty Brown Boy Video (MV)




Performed By: Rags
Language: English
Length: 2:07
Written by: Raghav Shyam
[Correct Info]



Rags - Mind of a Dirty Brown Boy Lyrics
Official




Holdin' me and holdin' back, I don't really care for that, just you, just you
There's a pause between, feelin' like the music cuts, just you, just you
Why do I keep f*ckin' up? Why the f*ck I wanna wreck this car
Like a crash dummy?
Why I keep on thinkin' bout this broad when she ain't show no love to me
Now I'm talkin' to the mic, all alone, codeine keep me company
Brody tell me pray to God, so I talk but do he hear me
Fear of God and Ferragamo put it on like, do you see me
Why the f*ck am I the only one that gotta do better
Denim tears runnin' down my face, like I'm cryin' acapella
Do you ever feel like life is tryin' to try you
Like you're drownin' underwater, can't get out, like the bayou
Why the f*ck is life so weird? Every bitch is made of plastic
Ain't no morals anymore, them young boys pullin' up with static
Ain't no morals anymore, they buyin' guns before they Patek
Ain't no morals anymore, them bitches f*ckin' for some fabric
Do I gotta say it again? Say it again? Say it again
Do I gotta say it again? Say it again? Say it again? Say it again
Why do I keep f*ckin' up? Why the f*ck I wanna wreck this car
Like a crash dummy?
Why I keep on thinkin' bout this broad when she ain't show no love to me
Now I'm talkin' to the mic, all alone, codeine keep me company
Brody tell me pray to God, so I talk but do he hear me
Fear of God and Ferragamo put it on like, do you see me
Why the f*ck am I the only one that gotta do better
Denim tears runnin' down my face, like I'm cryin' acapella
I said, f*ck it, I'ma do me, Chrome Hearts for my sweater
Sad to say my old bitch broke my heart, my new bitch way better
Ain't a Jeep, this is TrackHawk, inside red leather
Standing is Five Foot Seven, ARP will send you to heaven
Rags, do you ever feel like there's another side of you
Baby, do you like it when I keep on comin' inside of you
She gon' f*ck me harder when I record her on the TV
Money comin' in, f*ck a job, f*ck a CV
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.


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English

Holdin' me and holdin' back, I don't really care for that, just you, just you
There's a pause between, feelin' like the music cuts, just you, just you
Why do I keep f*ckin' up? Why the f*ck I wanna wreck this car
Like a crash dummy?
Why I keep on thinkin' bout this broad when she ain't show no love to me
Now I'm talkin' to the mic, all alone, codeine keep me company
Brody tell me pray to God, so I talk but do he hear me
Fear of God and Ferragamo put it on like, do you see me
Why the f*ck am I the only one that gotta do better
Denim tears runnin' down my face, like I'm cryin' acapella
Do you ever feel like life is tryin' to try you
Like you're drownin' underwater, can't get out, like the bayou
Why the f*ck is life so weird? Every bitch is made of plastic
Ain't no morals anymore, them young boys pullin' up with static
Ain't no morals anymore, they buyin' guns before they Patek
Ain't no morals anymore, them bitches f*ckin' for some fabric
Do I gotta say it again? Say it again? Say it again
Do I gotta say it again? Say it again? Say it again? Say it again
Why do I keep f*ckin' up? Why the f*ck I wanna wreck this car
Like a crash dummy?
Why I keep on thinkin' bout this broad when she ain't show no love to me
Now I'm talkin' to the mic, all alone, codeine keep me company
Brody tell me pray to God, so I talk but do he hear me
Fear of God and Ferragamo put it on like, do you see me
Why the f*ck am I the only one that gotta do better
Denim tears runnin' down my face, like I'm cryin' acapella
I said, f*ck it, I'ma do me, Chrome Hearts for my sweater
Sad to say my old bitch broke my heart, my new bitch way better
Ain't a Jeep, this is TrackHawk, inside red leather
Standing is Five Foot Seven, ARP will send you to heaven
Rags, do you ever feel like there's another side of you
Baby, do you like it when I keep on comin' inside of you
She gon' f*ck me harder when I record her on the TV
Money comin' in, f*ck a job, f*ck a CV
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Raghav Shyam
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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