Atmosphere Party Over Here Lyrics

Sad Clown Bad Fall 10 Track Listing
CD 1
  • 1 Peyote
  • 2 Party Over Here
  • 3 Makes the Sun Come Out
  • 4 The Rooster
  • 5 Lyndale Avenue User's Manual


  • Party over here, fuck you over there
    And there she blows
    Slip into the bathroom, lock the door
    Sniffing like a vacuum
    And I know that it ain't nobodies business
    But last time she was in there for twenty minutes
    Her roommate Ruth sitting at that booth
    Sucking on that wine like she's gonna find the truth
    Just wait 'till her lips turn blood red
    She'll fall in love with whoever, 'nuff said
    And that's Johnson
    He's always on some agro frat bro gangsta stompin'
    Acts like he's the only white boy from Compton
    If real G's show up, the attitude is gone
    Jill forgot that they agreed no coke
    Cause Jacks on the couch passed out with his mouth open
    Led Zepplin, Stairway To Heaven
    Stay in step cause anyone can have a weapon
    Just like Chad, real white trash
    Short fuse quick to put his foot up your ass
    Heads up, that's his wife Rebecca
    And I advise you to try not to smile at her
    And lets all have deep conversation
    Alcohol and dialogue perfect combination
    Throw in a cokehead or a pothead
    Just cant stop them thought provoking topics
    Look somebody puked in the fridge
    Ain't that great, its where the beer lives
    The music's too loud to hear the fire alarm
    And imma set a fire if you don't change the song
    C'mon
    Nothing but love
    Yeah there was a party, many people came through
    Standing on the wall, cause that's what I do
    Small-talk shot dialogue push snooze
    Defense mechon cause I got a lotta shoes {issues}
    The moment got stolen by a lady in red
    With a campaign slogan about the straight edge
    But her sentence is broken
    Her focus a fraction
    The ash on her Camels at an inch and a half
    And her voice starts to crack
    And her head starts to twitch
    And Ant looks at me like, “What's up with this bitch?”
    I can tell by the stains and the way she complains
    That pills ain't to blame and it ain't cocaine
    Shes had too, too, too much coffee
    Nate must have drank a lot of Black Label
    Tryin' to play the Rottwieler under the table
    Now light another cigarette off of the stove
    Both ya'll drunk, which one of ya'll drove
    These people need to stay off the sauce
    Im shocked that the neighbors ain't called the cops
    The music, the drunk, the fights out front
    And half of these kids ain't near twenty one
    Who's party is this, who's home is this
    How'd I get here man, I do grownup shit
    Let me know when your games are all done
    Cause I can't fuck with these games you call fun
    Have fun
    Party over here, fuck you over there

    Written by: Winston Rosa
    Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group

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