Представляем точный текст композиции "I m Coming Home" и глубже погружаем в смыслы творчества артиста Irv Gotti. Наша коллекция содержит детально проверенные слова песни, включая скрытые метафоры, отсылки и эмоции, вложенные автором. Лирика «I m Coming Home» — это не просто строчки, а история, которую Irv Gotti передаёт через ритм и интонации. Изучайте переводы, оригинальные версии и толкования, чтобы раскрыть все грани любимого трека.
Irv Gotti - "I m Coming Home"
I lived my life in the gutter! And this gutter is who I am!
Take me back home to my gutter, and thats where I wont ever leave
again!
Hey! Im comin home, home to the criminals and crooks,
Home to the gangbangers shootin dirty looks.
Home to the killer cops beatin down my ass,
Home to my `72 Vallary prayin it will last.
Past all the rich bitches tryna play me out.
Doggin on my neighborhood, dont know what its about.
So now Im clockin nuggets, never hangin with the rich.
Id rather hang out with the crookeds at the party store, bitch!
Gimme Coney, dawg, with a little smog,
Cuz it tastes better than the poisonous fog.
Seen it from the sewers in my slummy neighborhood.
But the ghetto got love and the love is all good
So I dont give a fuck about your mansion by the lake.
You can suck my dingaling until your neck breaks.
Cuz all I wanna do is hang with the zombies in the zone.
Break out with the Faygo. Im comin home.
(chorus):
Home to the creatures, home to the crooks,
Home to the fools readin witchcraft books,
Home to the monsters roamin the land,
I wanna come home but ya dont understand.
Bitch, Im comin home, and Im not alone.
Jokers and freaks and the dead body bones.
Every single thing that ya never wanna see,
Add it all together and ya got me!
Ah, Nobody give a fuck about your punk ass rules.
Keystone coppers and your hypocrite schools.
Id much rather lay around the streets and the gutter,
And make dirty phone calls to your rich mother.
Put up last midnight and Im wakin up the dead.
And we playin kickball with sombodys head.
We go skinny-dippin in the barrels of toxic waste,
After that, I pour myself a little taste.
So tell your mother that shes nothin but a fat bitch,
And all my homies dont care if the hoes rich.
Somebody out here, please let me know if theres a phone,
I need to call my mother, and tell her Im comin home.
(chorus)
Im comin home. Chicken, chicken bone.
Sugar plumb wishes and Ice cream cones.
All these fake people sayin hi to one another.
Then they sit around and talk shit about each other.
Watering the grass, diggin in they ass,
Tryna make sure they didnt lose any cash.
Workin hard all you life, and now youre finally rich.
But look at you, youre just another whack bitch! heh.
Call in the slum, thats where the bums,
Murderers, and slaughterers. So thats what I become.
Spare a little change, cuz I just ran outta gas,
Reach for your quarter and Ill stick your fuckin ass.
Nobody wants to be around the ghetto breed.
The ghetto got each other, and thats all we really need.
So what the fuck Im doin down here? I got a land of my own,
Hey, yo, dawg, fuck it, we goin home.
(chorus)
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(chorus)
(group chorus)
(group chorus)
(group chorus w/ fade out)
(group chorus w/ fade out)
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