[Z the Stranger]
I'm speeding in the left lane.
When I collide into the fence of a fancy estate,
I keep glass from the windshield from severing my organs with a shitty chestplate
made of a best mate's
Support to be the death sentence of a copy n paste
Artist wishing to get in on the bread bake.
Knowing the room is hotter than they can take.
Let's make the assumption they were in it for the music rather than a sex break.
Then take the events that follow them and leave them looking like their in a dead state.
Is it really a coincidence they rap about the excess like it's in their pen's ink?
Let's think.
I bet they expect to inspect breasts and inject dread if they said they did
Already in a track about the fifty stacks that were printed back
In a mini shack out in Trinidad.
Take your shitty raps and put them in a sack.
Man, the filth is back to syringe your crap like it's dizzy snatch making the omies mad.
Even I don't have the magic Bowie had,
But I act as if I did on all these tracks.
The man was a legend for standing out.
Musically and fashionably, he aired it out.
Most of the others were too bland to care about.
It seems so similar to what you're making now.
What makes you deserve a seat at the table now?
Is it the the actions that you seem to rave about?
Is that the reason you deserve the steak and trout
We make without having to shell the basics out?
[TeeJay Small]
Contrarian, Barbarian, Bars really hit,
Our targets flailing and scarred,
Hard like a Targaryen.
Paul Bearers are witnesses to our damages.
Tarred canvases, and SARS carrying, and scar tearing hits, and far advanced with tech,
with all these hands to catch like Jason Varitek.
In a chamber with, SARS searing in,
Agent orange piercing skin, horror appears again.
It's an awful sense of fear you have, and there you have it,
All year again.
Our experiences haven't been so cheery yet this year I guess,
On the contrary it's
a quick decent to wits at end as this demented experiment begins.
Assistant can you hand me this elixir and the scissors and the Mr. Whiskers Teddy bear again?
He can squeeze it while he's screaming and he's bleeding, and he's seizing,
during this cesarean,
section excavation session in the basement,
wait a second, what's in here again?
Let's take intestines and replace them with a snake and taper off the end
and tape the gaping scrapes together,
There it is.
Start standing, get.
Bitch I said to stand again.
Oh, he's panicking.
Shit, he fucking died.
Yet another failed attempt.
Toss him on the pile where the other failures sit.
God damn it, shit.
What a waste of skin.
Now I need a new subject again.
Who do you recommend?
I'd be remiss if not to recompense.
Yeah, send him in.
credits
from City of Ghosts,
released December 4, 2017
Cameron Francisco
(Vocals and Production)
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