7 T's (Trinket Trading Tick Toting Toothless Tired Tramps) Songtext
von Guttermouth
7 T's (Trinket Trading Tick Toting Toothless Tired Tramps) Songtext
Dancing ′round in circles, staring at the sky
Spending hours on a corner trying to hitch a ride
Your girlfriend is filthy and stoned out of her mind
She hasn't had a shower since 1969
And you can′t even read, you can't even spell
Begging and loafing is all that you do well
Your heads full of lice, your navels full of lint
Don't you fucking breathe on me, go get yourself a mint, whoa
Frisbee playing hitchhikers are lame
God-damn hippies always smell like shit, piss, hemp and eggs
Stringing lots of beads really ain′t that neat
Dirty, drowsy hippie, you need to wash your feet
Daisy pickin′ fruit cake, always low on cash
Take your magic beans and shove them up your ass
Nothing I hate more, dirty hairy chicks
Only things that like them are gnats, fleas and ticks
Always out to lunch, always so confused
I wonder if they've ever owned a fucking pair of shoes
Frisbee playing hitchhikers are lame
God-damn hippies, smell
Stupid, lazy, can′t hold a job
Stupid, lazy, can't hold a job
Stupid, lazy, can′t hold a job
Stupid, lazy, can't hold a fucking job
You fucking hippie
You fucking loser
I′d love to disinfect you, shower you with bleach
Rock collecting moron, nothing but a leech
Make you clip your toenails, make you cut your hair
Rid the world of hippies, purifies our air
Spending hours on a corner trying to hitch a ride
Your girlfriend is filthy and stoned out of her mind
She hasn't had a shower since 1969
And you can′t even read, you can't even spell
Begging and loafing is all that you do well
Your heads full of lice, your navels full of lint
Don't you fucking breathe on me, go get yourself a mint, whoa
Frisbee playing hitchhikers are lame
God-damn hippies always smell like shit, piss, hemp and eggs
Stringing lots of beads really ain′t that neat
Dirty, drowsy hippie, you need to wash your feet
Daisy pickin′ fruit cake, always low on cash
Take your magic beans and shove them up your ass
Nothing I hate more, dirty hairy chicks
Only things that like them are gnats, fleas and ticks
Always out to lunch, always so confused
I wonder if they've ever owned a fucking pair of shoes
Frisbee playing hitchhikers are lame
God-damn hippies, smell
Stupid, lazy, can′t hold a job
Stupid, lazy, can't hold a job
Stupid, lazy, can′t hold a job
Stupid, lazy, can't hold a fucking job
You fucking hippie
You fucking loser
I′d love to disinfect you, shower you with bleach
Rock collecting moron, nothing but a leech
Make you clip your toenails, make you cut your hair
Rid the world of hippies, purifies our air
Writer(s): Eric Davis, Scott Sheldon, Joseph Nunn, Mark Adkins, Steven Wayne Rapp Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com