Brewa’s Paradise


As I mill through the barley in my Thomas Fawsett sack
I take a look at my hops and realize there’s not much left
Cause I’ve been mashing and laughin so long that
Even my ma’ma thinks that my star san’s gone
But I ain’t never crushed a grain that didn’t deserve it
Me, be dry hopped like a cone, you know that’s unheard of
You better watch how you brewing, and where you mashing
Or you and your grain mill might be lined in chalk
I really hate to decoct, but I gotta loc’-
As they grew I see myself in the hope wines, fool
I’m the kinda G the little brewas wanna be like
On my knees in the night
Reading brew sheets in the street light

Been spending most our lives living in the brewa’s paradise
Been spending most our lives living in the brewa’s paradise
Been spending most our lives living in the brewa’s paradise
Been spending most our lives living in the brewa’s paradise

by Kim Odland

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YFK6H_CcuX8

Reklamer

Om superwacs
Been there, done that!

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