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Barbra Streisand - Текст песни White Trash
[Verse One: performed by ADMoney]
 Listen up here's a tale about a white kid
 That had to make some cash
 Dropped out of school ain't never went to class
 Sold a little grass, robbed a couple cars
 Had a name around the neighborhood for fightin' in the bars
 Had a chip on his shoulder
 He's a chip off the block
 When he drinks, he drinks alone
 Grabbed the whiskey took a swig
 Heard the fiddle didn't jig
 Cause he's watchin' everybody round him blowin' up gettin' big
 So he picks out a ride, slim jims the door
 Now he's runnin' red lights and beatin' stop signs
 Cops are on his ass and he's runnin' out of time
 So he hits the chop shop, makes drop, cause he's sick of bein' poor
 He's white trash and he's knockin' on your door
 [Pre Chorus]
 Somebody's knockin' at my door, somebody's ringin' my bell
 [Chorus]
 I'm white trash and I'm knockin' on your door
 White Trash and I'm knockin' on your door
 White Trash and I'm knockin' on your door
 I know you hear me knockin' so what you hidin' for
 [Verse Two: performed by ADMoney]
 He ain't never joined the, he ain't no altar boyBarbra Streisand - White Trash - http://ru.motolyrics.com/barbra-streisand/white-trash-lyrics.html
 He's an angel with a dirty face like Pretty Boy Floyd
 He's the kind a kid sittin' in the park if you wanna cop a lid
 And if he got popped he wouldn't rat he do the bid
 Cause he's tuff like rugby down right ugly
 If you owe him money you'll be black and blue and bloody
 From his tenement slum right down to the gutter
 He might run a number, sell some iron to the brothers
 Cause the cops beat him down and it doesn't make the news
 But to him that's payin' dues when you're walkin' in his shoes
[Pre Chorus]
[Chorus]
 [Verse Three: performed by ADMoney]
 It's just another night in the old gin mill
 He got a pocket of old dirty dollar bills
 He buys his boys a round, they toast it up, they shoot it down
 They're gettin' stared at by some off duty cops sittin' down
 So what you lookin' at you wanna catch a smack
 He finishes his beer and his boys take his back
 And they mix it up, they're brawlin' on the ground
 The cop pulls his pistol and fires off a round
 Yo he should of got a job, should of went to class
 Now he's layin' all alone, still poor white trash
[Pre Chorus]
[Chorus]










