Lyrics
Peace to Walter White, I’m feeling ultra-light
Like this shit was violet, sirens on my right
Agony on my left, tragedy on my breath
Day in my shoes, you couldn’t take a fucking step
I’m finding that my mind was designed to rhyme to timing that I define
Define fine, dope rapper, rapping ahead of my time
My prime, I can’t find it, my lungs trained with astronauts
Space my silver lining, so far behind you not even an afterthought
Thought process a hot mess, I progress, resurrect stress
Like left to my own devices I be left for dead, dead set
To move thru the new school who’s who with dudes who bruise fools
Fucking pussies, yall should wear tutus
Rapping ballerinas, I’m proud to be the
Drug addicted asshole, who turned his life around
But sound like he could smash hopes
My last rope been thrown over the cliff, ain’t it Tied around your ankles, that’s a cliff hanger
I rip anger in the midst of swift danger
Change up to love before the twist
Dangle your head beneath me, because I’m over it Old enough to know that Red Rover is a Doberman they let loose
When you try to leave the zone you in
I’m practical, you need to practice, hit you with a cactus
Laugh when your ass is bleeding in need of a Tampax
Yeah, this is something you can’t have
Whoa, whoa, I need to slow it down
Yo, yo, this shit is going down
Like anything Obama touch, no clown in my circus
One man band, lyrical wordsmith
With words that’ll work this dark side of my soul
Not perfect, but persist, to murk this, I’m nervous
I murdered this verse shit on purpose
Acrobatic patterns, I shatter the matter perfect
The ladder I’m climbing is working, for certain
I’m hurting daily, broke and I’m hungry, here we go baby
Maybe I should take a break, ever going to happen — no Never going to rap like yall, never a fashion show, uh
I’m just too tactical, jackal with an axe and bow
I’m making the art of escape look easy, believe me Less of a breeze and more of a whirlwind
Doing 65 when we ride — me and my girlfriend
Peace to the bottom feeders, peace to my landlord
I wouldn’t wanna be ya, peace to Edison, I wanna roll in your corporate office
And leave your mouth hollow like an orthodontist
Of course I’ve been, praying I get to heaven, but
I’m just a dude with a death wish
Yelling «fuck you» upon my exit
Like I really wish my last words could have been my first impression
© 2015 Ill Company Music