[Verse 1]
I got no fortune, no forethought, or even the right
To sell these kids a message wrapped in lyrics they can recite
So I guess I'll just take a couple of sleeping pills and smoke a couple of joints
And loosen up so I don't wake up tight
Impossible things become colossal in dreams
Never ask my cortex, it's just as hopped up as me
And if you ever tried to die just as often as me
They'd give you invitations, come and try our conferences free
And if you еver wonder who the fuck is knocking, it's mе
Outside your doorstep with some hot chocolate or tea
Laced with lies served in something-or-other, vitamin z
What you use to take [...] up out of the deepfreeze
To reach a depth of metamorphosis, shed my exoskeleton shell
And force the quick ship
And rip the space time like it's made of lace twine
Case quite closed I'll let the reaper have his face time
[Chorus]
And you'll see my politics are hung at halfmast
Whole crowd hands in the air like this is math class
And I don't mean to drop the Jolly Roger black flag
But every famous revolutionary dies and that's that
X2
[Verse 2]
So how am I supposed to not flex or be so fresh
[...] don't need a fucking reason not to be dead
The unprotected citizens on my house block
Renounce my original co-ordinates and so now I'm outlawed
And that ain't even legal speak
And on some Steven Siegel fictional narrative
Hasn't kept the [...] as well as certain people have
We the bad neighbors that you people have next door
That sell rock to speed heads and get more
Infect more K-I-Ds with H-I-V
If it wasn't for the children, drugs okay by me
But if the babies get a taste of every great white thing
They might not come back and get their slate wiped clean
Might sting for a minute but if you can stick it out
You might escape one dream and get your hate dripped out
If not, get lost 'fore I break your ounce down to a qb
See who the king of the roost be
[Chorus]
And you'll see my politics are hung at halfmast
Whole crowd hands in the air like this is math class
And I don't mean to drop the Jolly Roger black flag
But every famous revolutionary dies and that's that
X2
[Outro]
Steven Siegel fictional narrative...
[...] people have...
That you people have next door...
Speed heads and get more...
K-I-Ds with H-I-V...
Drugs okay by me...
Great white thing...
And get their slate wiped clean...
For a minute but if you can stick it out...
One dream... dripped out...
And get lost...
Qb... of the roots be...
I got no fortune, no forethought, or even the right
To sell these kids a message wrapped in lyrics they can recite
So I guess I'll just take a couple of sleeping pills and smoke a couple of joints
And loosen up so I don't wake up tight
Impossible things become colossal in dreams
Never ask my cortex, it's just as hopped up as me
And if you ever tried to die just as often as me
They'd give you invitations, come and try our conferences free
And if you еver wonder who the fuck is knocking, it's mе
Outside your doorstep with some hot chocolate or tea
Laced with lies served in something-or-other, vitamin z
What you use to take [...] up out of the deepfreeze
To reach a depth of metamorphosis, shed my exoskeleton shell
And force the quick ship
And rip the space time like it's made of lace twine
Case quite closed I'll let the reaper have his face time
[Chorus]
And you'll see my politics are hung at halfmast
Whole crowd hands in the air like this is math class
And I don't mean to drop the Jolly Roger black flag
But every famous revolutionary dies and that's that
X2
[Verse 2]
So how am I supposed to not flex or be so fresh
[...] don't need a fucking reason not to be dead
The unprotected citizens on my house block
Renounce my original co-ordinates and so now I'm outlawed
And that ain't even legal speak
And on some Steven Siegel fictional narrative
Hasn't kept the [...] as well as certain people have
We the bad neighbors that you people have next door
That sell rock to speed heads and get more
Infect more K-I-Ds with H-I-V
If it wasn't for the children, drugs okay by me
But if the babies get a taste of every great white thing
They might not come back and get their slate wiped clean
Might sting for a minute but if you can stick it out
You might escape one dream and get your hate dripped out
If not, get lost 'fore I break your ounce down to a qb
See who the king of the roost be
[Chorus]
And you'll see my politics are hung at halfmast
Whole crowd hands in the air like this is math class
And I don't mean to drop the Jolly Roger black flag
But every famous revolutionary dies and that's that
X2
[Outro]
Steven Siegel fictional narrative...
[...] people have...
That you people have next door...
Speed heads and get more...
K-I-Ds with H-I-V...
Drugs okay by me...
Great white thing...
And get their slate wiped clean...
For a minute but if you can stick it out...
One dream... dripped out...
And get lost...
Qb... of the roots be...
( Simple )
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