Music Video

Slow Elvis
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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
The LaFontaines
The LaFontaines
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Kerr Okan
Kerr Okan
Songwriter
John Gerard McGinley
John Gerard McGinley
Songwriter
Darren McCaughey
Darren McCaughey
Songwriter
Iain Findlay
Iain Findlay
Songwriter
Jamie Keenan
Jamie Keenan
Songwriter

Lyrics

I'm a grown man, never be caught in a snapback, Obey no hat or backpack, you caricatures get laughed at Enter the programme, breakup the landscape, I don't mean nothing but hassle, I'm a rascal, I am glasgow Oppression is something I'm used to, violence, Drugs and abuse too, crime is something I could do I know a good few, who might come through, Of course there's evil in people, when the hand they're dealt ain't equal This money is causing us grief mate, Cause life don't work for a cheapskate We're on, live in effect, a thousand shows, delivered directly In faces of those, who often oppose, or maybe just don't respect me But believe, you can't deny it, these kids are causing a riot Like london, or luton, no unlawful methods or shooting though Salute, I'm building it up, Just piecing the puzzle, with nothing but hustle and skill Burning the candle at both ends, In this industry full of my fake friends I live in a bubble, I need cleansed, we live in a bubble, that depends Thousand people I don't know, and there's fifteen others I don't like And they follow me cause cause I will hopefully, Trip fall on my face and blow it but it's plain to see, This ain't hard for me, I'm not arrogant, I just know it We're based up north, went down south, and this shit plays in the states This is hip-hop, and I make that, for more than just my mates They're listening now, got them up on their feet, I hope that slipped through, like pennies up under the seat But while you search for change, we're actually making it happen, Ten thousand hours of rapping, Broke out the box I was classed and trapped in, Been at the most, pretentious parties, ever imagined on earth son Like to run up in there with an air gun, for some rare fun, And just pick one, off, and on like a break light Them suits are giving me stage fright, They follow me round like a shadow, Like some washed up gary barlow Sitting with mountains of cocaine, While he's blowing my brain like I'm cobain Pulling his phone out and showing me pics, Of him and his burd and her and her tits Her in her dress and more of her breasts, Send me that mate, if you wanna impress You won't, none of that shit's cool, Stop signing these fuckers from brit school I'd rather bow out, with no deal, Than be first in line for a free meal, slow elvis
Writer(s): John Mcginley, Kerr Okan, Iain Findlay, Darren Mccaughey, Jamie Keenan Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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