Lyrics

Wind commander, get me a stella Dropping down from a fukin' opiceller Under pressure with these old beats Amber rhymes are fresher than a tube of toothpaste It dont go to waste its Devvo, cleaning teeth in your ear, In your brains, and ya sounds, and the beats and the rhymes, The black boys know its Devvo's feeding time! The boys on the beach are, (are, are) gettin' high (gettin' high) The boys on the beach are, (are, are) gettin' high (gettin' high) The boys on the beach are, (are, are) gettin' high (gettin' high) The boys on the beach are, (are, are) gettin' high (gettin' high) We're smoking blunts at christmas, im gettin' a fukin' sun tan But its christamas, flip reverse cuts, i dont know what the fukn' drop is All about, sunny and its shining, Devvo's really fineing, checking out the ladies, Show us ya boobies! Factor 15 is what im wearin, im fukin' not being scared, But i dont wanna get fukin' cancer and that, coz like, tht wud be bad nd tht wun it! Devvo's got flavour, like a fukin' nasty raver, shout out to the boys, fixing up the mains, Round these plains, round these plains, check my beats, check my ryhmes, the boys who keeping us To time, MASSIVE, black, whites and the cuban and asians, well yeah dont you like the nation, I Dont like asians, they smell funny! Crazy beat boys on a ragga tip, Crazy beat boys on a ragga tip! Hum make her say what you say like, something about me thats shit scared and that, fukin' coast lines, From coast to coast, whether it be Cleethorpes, you know the most! Shout out to the brothers, to the brother massive, or give it the shout out to the black boys, to the white boys To the other boys. The boys on the beach are, (are, are) gettin' high (gettin' high) The boys on the beach are, (are, are) gettin' high (gettin' high) The boys on the beach are, (are, are) gettin' high (gettin' high) The boys on the beach are, (are, are) gettin' high (gettin' high) Electric ring time, everybodys sayin sure the Jamaica up on to the dancefloor Robots on the dancefloor, hes not called robert hes called something black black! Riot sound, police come round, everybody face the drum a loud, riot sounds police come round, Getting ya handcuffs and basements sound, to the base and the drum beat, bet you move on your feet Whether they are big or small, Devvo is standing tall! White boys versus black boys, being clever, coming together With a sense of melier, sense of flavour The boys on the beach are, (are, are) gettin' high (gettin' high) The boys on the beach are, (are, are) gettin' high (gettin' high) The boys on the beach are, (are, are) gettin' high (gettin' high) The boys on the beach are, (are, are) gettin' high (gettin' high) Basically rolling, im not going, i dont know where but ive got a spliff And me wears in me hair, and me caps in me face, and i dont know coz I dont like this place, the police all getting in me grill, this is really some kind of thrill, Its not a thrill its more gay (im not gay) Thats where this strory ends!
Writer(s): Tetsuro Oda, Tomoko Aran Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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