Scrappers Lyrics – Enola Gay
Singer: Enola Gay
Title: Scrappers
Cross tattoos
Lookin not so eggar
Pours out your booze
Hair cut like Conor McGregor
Says your ID
Doesn’t look like you
So he live-streams ya
For all of Facebook to see
Rocked up in trackies so you’re straight up denied
Hasn’t got a ground so you try and you try
Stood there like a spare dick wondering why
What’s the point when he won’t even look ya in the eye?
On the door
Lookin’ for a fight
“I’m sorry son
Night’s not the da’night” x4
Professional arsehole
PhD in sleazy
Degree in wrecking your nights and making women uneasy
Treats ya like a dog, grabs ya by the collar
Screams get lost as the other mutts holler
On the leash, he’s leading his legion
Trying to use logic is like committing treason
They turn the cameras off so nobody sees them
Cross-Hatch jacket
Now we’re gettin’ to the reason
On the door
Lookin’ for a fight
“I’m sorry son
Night’s not the ta’night” x4
Picked out, taig’d out
K’d out, blue’d out
Yoke’d out, bucked out
Choke’d out, f#cked out x3
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Lyrics Enola Gay – Scrappers
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