Infected Wounds - Vomitchainsaw Lyrics
By: Admin | Artist: V vomitchainsaw | Published: 2024-22-09T18:45:56:00+07:00
Lirikku.ID - Infected Wounds - Vomitchainsaw Lyrics: Halo Lirikku.ID, Dalam konten ini, kami menyediakan chord gitar untuk lagu "Infected Wounds - Vomitchainsaw Lyrics" yang dinyanyikan oleh Toton V vomitchainsaw. Dengan chord yang disajikan, pemula atau penggemar musik dapat dengan mudah memainkan lagu ini dengan gitar mereka sendiri. Kami menyajikan chord dengan akurasi tinggi sehingga pemain dapat mengikuti alunan musiknya dengan baik. Juga, kami akan memberikan informasi tambahan mengenai lirik lagu dan mungkin beberapa tips untuk menyempurnakan permainan gitar. Konten ini cocok untuk penggemar musik yang ingin belajar lagu baru atau bagi mereka yang ingin menikmati kesenangan bermain musik dengan gitar.
Silahkan disimak Infected Wounds - Vomitchainsaw Lyrics Berikut Dibawah ini untuk Selanjutnya.[intro]
run, better run away, gonna have some fun today
cut her ear to ear, leave her f*cking smile on display
i’ll never, ever, ever, ever, ever [?]
[?] body decay
[verse 1]
walk into the bank with a gun on my hip
k!llin’ every [?]
cover your cranium, got a full f*ckin’ clip
brains spilled all over the bank, f*ckin’ [?]
[?]
[?] always keep it loaded
[?] hope you know it
[?]
[?] go to the d*mn right
gunning down every single person in my d*mn sight
paint the walls red, and before they were d*mn white
[?] post it on the d*mn website
pow pow pow, 3 shots in your stomach
gun, 1, 2, 3, done, yeah i love it
your throat is exposed, and i am gonna cut it
your body is lifeless, i am gonna f*ck it
[verse 2]
run, better run away, gonna have some fun today
cut her ear to ear, leave her f*cking smile on display
i’ll never, ever, ever, ever, ever [?]
[?] body decay
i’m in afghanistan, shooting heroin [?]
drugs in my tummy, you can’t even afford it
popped 3 pills, got a brick, imma snort it
i’m inside your house and i’m taking all your sh*t
talk sh*t on me, and [?] got your info
say your last words, cuz i’m outside your window
stop talkin’ bout me, i’m inside your crib bro
stop calling girls “mommy”, you’re a f*cking weirdo
[?]
never seen a rack [?]
suicide vest on my chest, ’bout to blow up
[?] your music makes me wanna throw up
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