Shut your fucking neck off, your fucking neck face

I'm a poor white trash can, Shut your fucking face off

I'm a poor white trash can sitting on a suburban lawn behind a sidewalk that stretches as far as I can see

I believe in God, mailboxes, and capitalism

But that's only cause if I didn't...I couldn't be

[Hook] (X 2)

LINES

Read between 'em, color outside of 'em

I go beyond the lines you let define you

Line up at the table we gots lot to draw

Cause it's a thin line between a thick line and no line at all

When God cries, acrylic paint drips from his eyes

He puts a rainbow in the sky for you and I both to openly despise

I take in the last breath with the lips touchin'

And when it's all over I'll probably feel like I missed somethin'

The feel good music ain't as bad as the kiss was

And it's nothin' to say I live under construction, obstructed, distracted

Corrupted, directed abstracted. corrected conducted

And laughed at by nothin' but fascist robotic plastic psychotic toys in the attic

Crafted by bad actors turned narcotic addicts slash black magick adepts

Practicin' maskin' skin graphs with pins and needles to fool the feeble masses

So it's no obstacle to rob the soul of its only assets

Pay heavens border patrol to control the traffic

The face the angels wear is cold but classic

So with my foot on the gas the world's wishin' I crash

Cause I turned the lines they built to hold me back into an infinite graph sip it and laugh

[Hook] (X 2)

LINES

Read between 'em, color outside of 'em

I go beyond the lines you let define you

Line up at the table we gots lot to draw

Cause it's a thin line between a thick line and no line at all

I rock the kinda smile you only see in a casino

On my way to my trial for killing the machines

I'd die to put a lot of wear and tear on the regime

But it ain't what it is cause it's barely what it seems

Rhyming's in my blood so it's carried in the stream

Nothing but a fairly poorly narrated scene

I can't name all the therapists I've seen

But I still have the little house on the prairie in my dreams

The cream of the crop rise to the occasion

There's more to hip hop than what you got in your basement

Instead of condemning yourself for all the peace of mind your wastin'

I'll draw the new blueprint you just take the time to trace it

I'll draw the new blueprint you just take the time to trace it

I'm pure bashin' ears in a non-linear fashion here

Ask if we're out of line?

You're God damn right

I redefine the boundaries every time I touch the mic and spit my lines

LINES

Read between 'em, color outside of 'em

I go beyond the lines you let define you

Line up at the table we gots lot to draw

Cause it's a thin line between a thick line and no line at all (x2)

I'm the reason that your girl thinks she's a quantum physicist, alright?

Die