The Runaway - Plan B

Letra de The Runaway, canción donde Plan B interpreta uno de los temas que más suenan en el albúm Ill Manors. Si te gusta la buena musica y te apasiona conocer letras de canciones de Plan B no te pierdas este single llamado The Runaway, no querras parar de escucharlo.

Letra The Runaway - Plan B

Escuchar Plan B The Runaway Lyric Video.

Plan B canta la cancion The Runaway dentro de su album Ill Manors, os dejamos con la letra de The Runaway para que la podais disfrutar. En el menu teneis mas letras del album Ill Manors y de Plan B.

[ De: ]

This story's dark like the place where
this story starts, full of fiends, and
gangsters with gory hearts, drugged-up
girls dressed up like naughty tarts,
performing se*, and perverted forms of
art, and anybody with a fantasy that
needs fulfilling, even the filth, cops
that lock up a man for stealing, for
Quent, there bent, sweat dripping off
the ceiling sadomasochists, (?) anything
goes when you've got the riches, but
only the se*ually depraved pay for
pregnant bitches, her name's Katya, he
was to do what he wished with, if ya
into chicks that wake up with morning
sickness, and have to make their way
past people fucking, punters hooked on
hookers hooked on smack, cluckin, spent
a day getting touched up and
butt-fucking, wishing she'd wake up from
the nightmare she was stuck in, but she
weren't waking up from nothing, this was
her reality, place where dreams come
true for those who lack morality, she
had to get out, if not for her child,
for her sanity, 'cause the only
difference between this place and hell
was gravity. (Chorus:) You want the
business, runaway, runaway, where the
money man? You want the business, you
want the business, the business, the
money man? (x2) It was a weird twist of
fate, the way that she escaped, she knew
her chance would come, she just had to
wait, 'till one of her abductors made a
mistake, mixing vodka with heart pills
and smoking a straight, with the door
unlocked, ain't the smartest idea, when
your runnings are illegal and your cargo
live in fear, the path was now clear,
but only for a exit, 'cause the road
ahead was long, and full of unexpected,
twists and turns, she learned
inadvertently, how to cope with life's
little moments of uncertainty, feeling
safe on the street, however absurd it
seems, the mother and baby unit, where
she had disturbing dreams, was a place
she didn't feel was safe and had to
leave, would only be a matter of time
before she had police, asking her
questions, finding out the truth about
her underworld connections, sending her
back to the brothel, either that, or
simply just deportin' her, she's met
corrupted law before, she can't see them
supportin' her, so if she goes along the
road, it slowly starts destroyin' her,
not knowing where she's going, or why
grudgers (?) keep ignorin' her.
(Chorus:) You want the business,
runaway, runaway, where the money man?
You want the business, you want the
business, the business, the money man?
(x2) Life was hard in the brothel, now
it's hard in the street, 'cause English
is a language she can hardly speak, like
so many Eastern European people you
meet, only difference is they legal and
they earning their keep, she was
smuggled into Britain almost two months
gone, she didn't know she was pregnant
'till they saw the bump, and now the
baby's here and they're both on the run,
if she don't beg, steal and borrow she
ain't no kind of mum, her feelings a
vicious circle, with a big set of teeth,
the sharper they are, the smarter the
thief, so now she's broke again and she
don't even know it, until she reaches
for the purse and it hurts 'cause she
stole it, to find it ain't there, I
guess you reap what you sow, its a bitch
how karma works, it's hard to work out
where she's going, resortin' back to
prostitution when the traffic is
flowin', her ride stops and drives off
when it sees what she's towing, must be
hard knowing that you're nothing but a
peasant, game for the hunt, its the
prairie like pheasant, loitering at
bus-stops like bored adolescents, with
se* on their mind, 'cause you give off
the impression, that you'd sell yourself
for money, not find the thought
repellent, getting fucked in the field
from behind, for you best feed your
child just so it don't cry, its
unpleasant, but that's what she did and
now we're back in the present. runaway,
runaway, runaway, runaway runaway,
runaway, runaway, runaway Letra The
Runaway Lyrics Insertada: Anonimo
Más letras de Plan B

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