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wildcard – dog tags كلمات اغاني

chorus:
if i die in the combat zone (if i die in the combat zone)
box me up and ship me home (box me up and ship me home)
if i die in the combat zone
box me up and ship me home

verse 1 (wildcard):

yeah, witch doctors couldn’t borrow my passion
‘cause this is my craft, i’m the one they put it on to decide that [?]
the type of freedom you can’t buy jack
your money’s worthless like robbery cash strapped with dye packs
splash [?] spatter or snap your mob back to [?]
the flow to keep on going through the door and leave ‘em sidetracked
a true mc that defines divine rap comes
once in a blue moon like a hooker when she climax
this sh_t is live when we bring it, we’re setting fire traps
burning motherf_ckers’ infrastructures if they’re typecast
ain’t no identity crisis, call us white trash and
everybody dies like when the hijacked flight crashes
city composes to the lost land, a lot lacks
we put this one together for our brothers sent to iraq
until the government calls it off
tell them l!ck a man’s b_lls and c_ck like a disneyland lollipop

chorus:
if i die in the combat zone (if i die in the combat zone)
box me up and ship me home (box me up and ship me home)
if i die in the combat zone (if i die in the combat zone)
box me up and ship me home (box me up and ship me home)
verse 2 (dead poet)

i ain’t a backpaper sifer rapping graph writer, a rap titer
shine on these tracks like a motherf_ckin’ sapphire
glass pipe igniter and the black light’s on fire
keep waking up with blood splashed on last night’s attire
i’m in the league of extraordinary gentlemen
one punch will leave your f_ckin’ coronaries hemorrhaging
this sh_t right here is for my dogs at camp pendleton or
wherever else bush’s old f_ggin’ ass is sendin’ ‘em
hard land, dark red, sleepin’ on a hard bed, part dead, [?], motherf_ckin’ jarhead
all the lonely wives who ain’t got supper on the table
disgusted and unable, getting f_cked to pay the cable
while their man walk the desert exhausted, they keep on stomping
he’s walking to his coffin, he’s lost but he’s not forgotten
what’s up? there’s a piece of cotton [?] now we actin’ wild
just smokin’ a wreckin’ child like a pack of black & milds

verse 3 (wildcard & dead poet)
wildcard:

jack of gloves, kind of trippin’ how far back it was
‘fore you drafted up and ended up on that iraqi bus
thinking [?]
before you went away to camp to tap dance across the b00by traps
[?]
match the sh_t and ain’t knows they should have used a darker chapstick
don’t know what it’s like so i won’t pretend to try
but when my man comes home, he smiles different every time

dead poet:

he’s standing in the stands that an avalanche couldn’t match
jack daniels and camels to the ambulance advance
innocent bystanders gather to take a gander on a man whose snap beyond all reasonable answers
police lights flashing, vans with news cameras
sightings overall, the tragedies got [?] playing the random
family demands answers, such a handsome young man
how could he have handguns?
blood all across, fatigues in these sandstorms
it feels like he’s stuck in a dream and he can’t run
[?] who’s gonna teach, you see when his dad’s gone
he can’t even seem to breathe ‘cause he’s at nam
police all screaming to freeze but he stands strong
ain’t nothin’ left to do now but bleeding pass on
and died like the lifeless form lying before he
loved ones mourning, puddles of blood forming
chorus:
if i die in the combat zone (if i die in the combat zone)
box me up and ship me home (box me up and ship me home)
if i die in the combat zone (if i die in the combat zone)
box me up and ship me home (box me up and ship me home)

- wildcard

كلمات أغنية عشوائية

اهم الاغاني لهذا الاسبوع