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Credits
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Eight Corpses
Songwriter
Lyrics
It's that old school boom bap defibrillator
Been cooco long before I left the incubator
Came a long way from losing at shoots and ladders
I just want to fuck and get high, but mainly the latter
Ask me about my personality, it's a disorder
Went from happy hour to I want this to be over
At what point, when will I be hopping
But no longer hip when I'm rapping
I'm a pending tombstone but luckily what I rap about isn't fools gold
Fuck writers block, this is ad hoc
My life is macabre
I'm so couch locked
Off the dome like call of duty
We are the remnants of the stoned apes theory
People forget their roots entirely
It's apparent most these artists are just parrots
Academy award goes to these actors making music
Cruise control bitch, candid as it gets
This comes easily 'cause I'm not making up shit
When I'm not high I am off pitch
Plead the fifth 'til I cease to exist
Used to do card tricks three card monte type shit
Card mechanic, sometimes I disassociate and become catatonic
Other times I can't sit still no matter if I wanted
Guess to some people I'm outlandish
People always judgin', reachin', leechin', seekin' attention
I'm not scared to merk a person
I'll cross a motherfucker out like it's bingo
I'm a lunatic gringo, psilocybin albino
Disintegrated my ego
If I die, we both go
Tryna destroy these thoughts not myself though
Now suddenly 'cause I got attention
People got their hands out tryna fish for dinero
But I'm the type break your marrow
Leavin' you more broke than you came
I'm trying to ascertain symmetry
Have an affinity for apathy
When it comes to my wrath I am petty
Goddamit why'd the beat have to stop
I was kinda on a roll, shit, you know what I mean?
Listen, keep it going
I am the oops they couldn't undo
Most the time I hear the words, how are you
They really meant, hi, bye, nice to meet you
Rarely hear the words, I love you
Used to think my only source of joy came from a kilo or a needle
A lot of what comes outta people's mouths is fecal
Keepin' my head on a swivel
Analytical, open minded, vision isn't just tunnel
So elated they granted William Leonard Pickard clemency
I'm not superstitious but I feel like I manifested that honestly
In the meadows I walk gloomy in the midst of the negative talk
Fuck the nod it will blitz your whole squad
Seeing visual aesthetic like a koi pond
It's okay to admit when you're wrong
So many things in my life are gone
Gotta hit the bong thought my past was water under the bridge
But the trauma makes me wanna fuckin' binge
After a while it can get tiring being a fiend and frying
Seem calm on the outside but chaotic on the inside
Corpses 40 hands
That Junkyard steppa, risk taker, pep in my step motherfucker
Sometimes I'm lackin' stamina
Fuck these child ass motherfucker
Actin' like they still got the pacifier
Like Friedrich, Nietzsche
I'ma be ya teacher
Dosing shrooms like a golden teacher
Straight to the topic like Occam's razor or whatever
Fuck being a people pleaser
I already put my coins in
So I guess I'ma finish this game then
Fuck the fake interaction
Before a person asks for a favor or a transaction
Luckily I'm not spewing ipse dixit, I'm a sceptic
Yeah I find it plausible for there to be cause to this
But it's definitely caustic
'Cause if there was a big bang something had to of banged it
But if they exist then they'll have to beg for my forgiveness
My brain feeling like a parallax
Going on a trip like DMT from the gland
I come from an era
Way before social media
Fuck propaganda, mute the media
We're grasping at straws for a full proof remedy
People shouldn't be locked in cages for smokin' tree
Or tryin' live oppression free
We got rapists gettin' off scott free
With that being said humanity needs lsd
No one is born with racial bigotry
That shit is taught
But not love
Open your mind or not
I'm a Boom bap
EMT
This beat be the gurney
Resuscitating rap lyrically
Fuck corruption 'til the death of me
And I guess the rest is history
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