The Coup

The Coup - The Repo Man Sings For You songtekst

Je score:

[Del]
 It's the Repo Man! Reposession is my occupation
 It's not my fault you facin foreclosure, I told ya
 I'm just an agent, workin for the man
 and his manuscript say you owe him for this land
 Don't cry to me, and don't lie to me
 Actin like you ain't home, fakin on the phone
 You shoulda thought about that when you bought the Benzy
 You missed a few increments
 now we gotta come and get yo' shit
 If you slip on the payments
 I get paid to make sure that you pay rent
 or get out, throw all your clothes in the streets
 Frozen meats, out your refridgerator
 then my boys come back and get it later with the forklift
 Heh, we don't care how hard you worked, we takin yo' shit
 It's too late, your payment's way past your due date
 You couldn't hide from me, even with a new face
 or plastic surgery, your debt's outstandin
 I don't care about your family, don't hand me
 no excuses, you know it's useless, no one's stoppin me
 Just get off the property before I bring the cops with me
 Possibly, this could turn into a criminal act
 Gimme your fax machine, PlayStation in the basement
 adjacent, to the big screen television
 You can't tell the system no, we gotta get the dough
 The company want they G's, or the keys
 to the convertible, and hey, nothin personal, okay?
 I'm just doin my job (you know?)
 Collectin on your debts, now you're losin a wad
 Bruisin your wallet, whatever in your pocketbook
 all get took, to my agency, then they payin me
 It ain't phasin me, that's my thing
 When I mob off witcha shit, listen to me sing

 La la la la la la la, la la la la la *repeat 8X*

 [Boots]
 *thck* One, paycheck from sleepin on the street
 *tchka* Two/too, many bills my scrill don't meet
 *tchka* Three day notice from the landlord on the seat
 Fo-fo', caliber shots ain't discrete
 But motherfuckers still jack frequent, no secret
 cause they shit be delinquent
 And on closer inspection, reposession collection
 motivates birth protection in the brokest section
 In other words, the ghetto
 Repo Man, pullin strings like Giupetto
 Squeeze two at him, let go
 Cause I just gotta be real
 I'm tired of informercials with them five-year payment deals
 See I was sleepin on the carpet in my apartment
 when I heard my car ignition cause somebody sparked it
 So I run all the way down the hallway full throttle
 Don't give in is my motto, so I bust him with a bottle
 He screamin, "Whatchu gon' pay me with?"
 Then he started laughin singin crazy shit

 [Del] La la la la la la la, la la la la la

 I said, "SHUT THE FUCK UP," and then I banked him in the jaw
 But that was no use, even though he skidaddled
 bill collectors make my phone rattle, tell my kids don't tattle
 When you pick up the receiver, I'm sick with a fever
 You don't know where I am either
 Even hillbillies at a party linedancin
 get they Ford trucks with poor financing
 Banks that give the loan figure - damn, in the worst case
 we makin money cause we had it in the first place!
 And where was it that they got that cash from?
 You when you deposit it from bustin yo' ass
 Well two weeks after that last altercation
 I noticed my front lock had a slight alteration
 My TV was gone and out the window from my room
 I heard the Repo Man sing his devious tune, it went

 [Del] La la la la la la la, la la la la la *repeat 8X
Vind dit lied op:
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Copyrights:

Auteur: ?

Componist: ?

Publisher: Dogday Records

Details:

Uitgegeven in: 1998

Taal: Engels

Komt voor op: Steal This Album (1998)

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