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Jeshi – 3210 Lyrics

Snow pants off waist
Got me off my face, all brown no chase
Send me west every time you undress
But I gotta switch ways
Sixth gear, switch lanes, no gear, left awake
Life colour and grade
Just colour me grey
Running through white, you run in my brain
Chilling on the estate
Hot water got cut off in my place
Nitty front of the shops
Boy phone switched off and you know they can’t wait
Sony ericsson rings
See blue lights, see colour of skin
Seen so much death
Fountain of life spills over the brim

Dirty room one, five day pass, 3210
Drag my name through the mud
Skid ’round the corner and run
Dirty room one, five day pass, 3210
Drag my name through the mud
Skid ’round the corner and run
Dirty room one, five day pass, 321
Drag my name through the mud
Skid ’round the corner and run
Still don’t feel none, this pill is a dud
Now I’m on the ground getting up
Smoke outside, buzzing my nut

Christened by street lights
Feds dig in my levis
B run in my family
Still hang around b-lines
Residue on pink notes
City of no hopers, why we don’t vote
Snow bunnies in snow
Don’t need no convo, cutting off phones
Fight with the cab driver, now I gotta take night bus home
Fell asleep, woke up at the bus depot so no I just stroll
Run away and elope while I try put diamonds in your earlobes
Meantime smoking area who got another spare smoke?

Dirty room one, five day pass, 3210
Drag my name through the mud
Skid ’round the corner and run
Dirty room one, five day pass, 3210
Drag my name through the mud
Skid ’round the corner and run
Dirty room one, five day pass, 321
Drag my name through the mud
Skid ’round the corner and run
Still don’t feel none, this pill is a dud
Now I’m on the ground getting up
Smoke outside, buzzing my nut

Palms sweaty
Rub my hands on my jeans
Go do another half
Swear I did half already
Bouncers act like they’re feds
Strip search don’t make no sense
Got my face on the curb
Magic bean taste like cement
Just got over that chuck rush
While I watch the sun come up
Caught me red handed
Red handed, bag undone
Kill for a bottle of volvic
Sweat in the queue for the cloakroom
Shit, the stoney ain’t in there
Fuckers probably stole it

Dirty room one, five day pass, 321
All I wanna do is to run
Between my finger and thumb
I don’t feel none, pill is a dud
On the ground getting up
I’m buzzing
Fresh pack of drum
Go swirl in my lungs
Stepped in the bookies
Down on my luck
Mitsubishi logo all that’s picking me up



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