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Alex Unknown – San Pico lyrics
[?]
Hot around my collar get ac on
Rolling down a window never
Hot around my collar get ac on
Rolling down a window never took this long
Feeling sore in C2 means pain that’s gonna be 3D
Culture shock to me too, eyes jumping like add
I want to tell you, if my tongue won’t melt off
If my shoes don’t burn off, if that smile stays on
I’m a stone's throw from where you left me last season
Look, it’s still me, see, it’s old me, I got the same skin, same teeth
I should of double knotted cause I’m double tripping over you
Had to do a triple take, triple check you weren’t dead
Haven’t seen you since my very early days, why’d you wait till now to resurrect
Sunday was a metaphor, you were forever Sundays ago
This Sunday’s up to 1-0-0 degrees, got me limping on the track
Hell is in your sneakers, hell is in three stripes
Hell goes after the weakest, hell if you’re my type
Hell was the second season, hell, I’d take a weekend
Of us in the deep end, while the city’s on fire
Runners on the dashboard, papers for my passport
Finding shade is easy when you’re stuck inside an airport
I’m not one for blood sport, but I’d play for you
If you need me you can reach me when I get north
I’ll be a stone's throw away from where you left me last season
[?]
It's fiction
It's fiction
Hot around my collar get ac on
Rolling down a window never
Hot around my collar get ac on
Rolling down a window never took this long
Feeling sore in C2 means pain that’s gonna be 3D
Culture shock to me too, eyes jumping like add
I want to tell you, if my tongue won’t melt off
If my shoes don’t burn off, if that smile stays on
I’m a stone's throw from where you left me last season
Look, it’s still me, see, it’s old me, I got the same skin, same teeth
I should of double knotted cause I’m double tripping over you
Had to do a triple take, triple check you weren’t dead
Haven’t seen you since my very early days, why’d you wait till now to resurrect
Sunday was a metaphor, you were forever Sundays ago
This Sunday’s up to 1-0-0 degrees, got me limping on the track
Hell is in your sneakers, hell is in three stripes
Hell goes after the weakest, hell if you’re my type
Hell was the second season, hell, I’d take a weekend
Of us in the deep end, while the city’s on fire
Runners on the dashboard, papers for my passport
Finding shade is easy when you’re stuck inside an airport
I’m not one for blood sport, but I’d play for you
If you need me you can reach me when I get north
I’ll be a stone's throw away from where you left me last season
[?]
It's fiction
It's fiction
Lyrics taken from
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