Ripped (In a Cosmic Shirt)

I’m spitting philosophy at bricks

And I’m starting to get really ticked

We're getting pissed

We can’t see eye to eye

No reason to my rhyme

Perception’s killing all our cats tonight

Killing those fucking cats

Piss on your friends if you want a war

Fighting fire with fire galore

Allies will turn if you leave em’ no choice

You've gotta recognize when they’re hearing your voice

Forced to fight back if you like it or not

We live in an era of Xanax and thots

Balling our fists, now we’re ready to fight

If it’s what it takes, we’re gonna tear out your eyes

You'd better run

I’ll fight you

Ripped (in my cosmic shirt)