Texty
There's no doubt that genius' his madness, he's a-a talk of abnormality, a lot of people never relate to, I would say absolutely extraordinary, give it, songwriter and a very talented musician
His music, it didn't follow, I mean even simple songs is that-is they really followed straight-straight parts of other songs
Get on with it, say what you have to say
From the eternal sea he rises, creating armies on either shore, turning man against his brother, 'til man exists no more
Skippin' through an opium field, pickin' flowers
I make tracks around patches on difficult witching hours
Went from trappin' demons to ventin' and settin' them loose
Night stand like police evidence rooms
Plunge darkness, fulcom harvest (Yeah)
Leaves blood red in red devil dust orange
My music upbringing was surreal with a twist
'86 (what?) cassettes of the Beach Boys, Biz Mark' and Rakim
Wimple Winch (who?), Kool G
Kool Moe Dee, Pink Floyd, Ozzy and Chris
Never clicked with a sponsor (Fuck that)
Relapsed off Purple Rain
Rockin' Timbs, smokin' purple like Prince on a Honda
1 ounce, 2 ounces, 3 ounces, 6 ounces, 7 ounces, 8 ounces, 9 ounces, 10 ounces, 10 ounces in the coke with beige, you know, somethin' nice, and for some for the personal use, hahahahaha, you know what I mean?
Yeah, I burn a ton o' Anchorage
I used to have no known family, just drug related
Now numb and jaded
Drop life's hamster wheel in the bower tank
No God to know a thing
All I know is I'mma have whatever Noah drank
Either art or hold-up bank
3rd floor crows are dead, hole cold and stank
Slime oozin' out the speakerbox, to keep the spot
Had to throw a goat in a volcano under the Equinox
I mix formula then Zeke drops
Cellar beats, sneakers copped
"Jak, you must read a lot"
Nah (nah), there's a bird in this curse turnin' in a membrane sack
Built detonatin' churches over dirt plots of methane gas
Servants in red capes
Gravesite candles and, votives lit
Cologne splash samples in golden piss
Written by: Jak Progresso
