Music Video

Transplants - "Tall Cans In The Air" (Full Album Stream)
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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Transplants
Transplants
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
R. Aston
R. Aston
Songwriter
T. Armstrong
T. Armstrong
Songwriter

Lyrics

Nobody moves, nobody get hurt Take a look around, baby, yeah, my whole crew's ugly But we still got the most game, the most money The most hoes, the most horny, it's so funny How d'you hate my fuckin' guts but at the same time love me From the Lincoln to the gold, to the lowriding bike I always catch you hatin' but you know that you like What you see is what you get, nothing more, nothing less I'm chillin' smokin' chronic while you're chokin' on stress Tall cans in the air, let me see 'em (fuck you) Tall cans in the air, let me see 'em (fuck you) I see you're mad at the fact that my pockets stay fat Is it the cash I made on whacks or the cocaine sacks? Is it the crew I roll with or the one that you lack? I wish you would come around, I'd lay you flat on your back You better hope you fuckin' miss me if you see me drinkin' whiskey You know, me and Diablos get way past tipsy Whether drunk, high or sober, yeah, we're still gettin' over Catching tats at 3 AM, head to toe, tread to joker Tall cans in the air, let me see 'em (fuck you) Tall cans in the air, let me see 'em (fuck you) I never sing, no, never, I only shout We're coming clean forever, without a doubt Like a machine gun trigger, you'd better watch out Yeah, Transplants don't give a fuck, that's where we're at So, here we come again with our original style I said, who the fuck are you? I've been here for a while We got Distillers, AFI, LFB and Crystal Sound Transplants are fearless and the most original Tall cans in the air, let me see 'em (fuck you) Tall cans in the air, let me see 'em (fuck you) Nobody moves, nobody get hurt Tall cans in the air, let me see 'em (fuck you) Tall cans in the air, let me see 'em (fuck you) If you think I give a fuck, well, you better think twice US Thugs, Wolfpack, and I ain't nothing nice Check the date and time, lyrically committing hate crimes Noose from the cord of my mic, now it's hang time Blow minds with rhymes designed to break spikes Transplants comin' through and we're one of a kind With a chrome to your dome, make you flip like a flapjack Two tall cans and a packet of blackjack Tall cans in the air, let me see 'em (fuck you) Tall cans in the air, let me see 'em (fuck you)
Writer(s): Timothy Armstrong, Rob Aston Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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