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Sage Francis - Three Sheets To The Wind Lyrics

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Sage Francis - Three Sheets To The Wind Lyrics




Had one too many one way conversations
With the licky licky lord
'till I grew a scissor tongue
And c-c-cut the cord
Put the phone on the floor
Attach the wires in my head
Took awhile to except that that line was dead

Didn't ever wanna not live forever
Didn't ever wanna not live forever
Didn't ever wanna not live forever
Didn't ever wanna not not wanna live

Didn't matter if the laughter didn't come after the bad joke,
If I was down with the filthy rich or flat broke,
Accepted by the Aryans or black folk
Cause I was carrying this weight until my back broke,
Wasn't trying to be no hip hop god a raps goat
Shootin' to be a rock star like its my last hope
I ball in that pack of smokes do me in!
Graduatin' on the crack coc do me in!
Knocked of a paddle boat in the middle of the castle moat
Kings men are yelling grab the rope!

Three sheets to the wind three!
Three sheets to the wind!

I talk like a sailor my mother is one
That's why I got this sick sense of direction
And my split tongue taught me how to go with the flow
When the winds come curled up in a ball and tried to hide
As I kicked them while the crew is gettin' piss drunk
I had to purify my own and drink up I had to save
And conserve recycle my salty words to keep the meat
On my bones all business is served
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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Had one too many one way conversations
With the licky licky lord
'till I grew a scissor tongue
And c-c-cut the cord
Put the phone on the floor
Attach the wires in my head
Took awhile to except that that line was dead

Didn't ever wanna not live forever
Didn't ever wanna not live forever
Didn't ever wanna not live forever
Didn't ever wanna not not wanna live

Didn't matter if the laughter didn't come after the bad joke,
If I was down with the filthy rich or flat broke,
Accepted by the Aryans or black folk
Cause I was carrying this weight until my back broke,
Wasn't trying to be no hip hop god a raps goat
Shootin' to be a rock star like its my last hope
I ball in that pack of smokes do me in!
Graduatin' on the crack coc do me in!
Knocked of a paddle boat in the middle of the castle moat
Kings men are yelling grab the rope!

Three sheets to the wind three!
Three sheets to the wind!

I talk like a sailor my mother is one
That's why I got this sick sense of direction
And my split tongue taught me how to go with the flow
When the winds come curled up in a ball and tried to hide
As I kicked them while the crew is gettin' piss drunk
I had to purify my own and drink up I had to save
And conserve recycle my salty words to keep the meat
On my bones all business is served
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Sage Francis, Chris Walla
Copyright: Lyrics © Wixen Music Publishing, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
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