Pomona - Chris Lord-Alge, American Fangs: текст песни id 10426082
I ain’t cha long time I’m impatient
She keeps saying that we ain’t ready to go
Ain’t holding hands, watching for the traffic, traffic
We ain’t ready to go
I said won’t you wait a minute
Won’t you wait a minute
Hurry up I’m waiting for you
Won’t you wait a minute
Won’t you wait a minute
Hurry up I’m waiting for you
Whoa, whoa, whoa, shake it up
Whoa, whoa, whoa, twist it up
Whoa, whoa, whoa, burn it up
Till we all fall down
I don’t want your hourglass,
Keep ya cheap cigarettes
We ain’t ready to go
It ain’t the spot, the shade
Tonight, then no, no
We ain’t ready to go
I said won’t you wait a minute
Won’t you wait a minute
Hurry up I’m waiting for you
Won’t you wait a minute
Won’t you wait a minute
Hurry up I’m waiting for you, you
Whoa, whoa, whoa, shake it up
Whoa, whoa, whoa, twist it up
Whoa, whoa, whoa, burn it up
Till we all fall down
Whoa, whoa, whoa, shake it up
Whoa, whoa, whoa, twist it up
Whoa, whoa, whoa, burn it up
Till we all fall down
Wow! Wow! Wow!
Wow till we all fall down
Maxed out blacked out, know what I’m talking 'bout?
Draped up, dripped out, sippin' to serve
Backpack, no stacks, keys to the Cadillac
We ain’t leaving even if you’re ready to go
Whoa, whoa, whoa, oh, oh, oh…
Till we all fall down
Whoa, whoa, whoa, shake it up
Whoa, whoa, whoa, twist it up
Whoa, whoa, whoa, burn it up
Till we all fall down
Whoa, whoa, whoa, shake it up
Whoa, whoa, whoa, twist it up
Whoa, whoa, whoa, burn it up
Till we all fall down
Wow!
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