Lyrics
I've reached the end of the ball pen
Stalled like a bull pen
But even when skulls dent
It all mends
Sticky sitch from where white lies
Bricks where it's bed time
Shit where I'd dine
But It fine
Cause
When I was growing up
Dad said "the sun blowing up"
Now old enough, to roll one up
Whenever solar touch
What I mean is
I don't give a fuck
Whether skill or luck
Imma fill the cup
With like a million bucks
Whether kills or bills
I'm thrilled in my cut
I'm still in the rut
But failed giving up
So I stick a pack of Bics in my bag
And scribble on pads
Til more gag
Then voring a cap
But shit, this is supposed to make you sick
That's why we call it ill
Why I spill unwell feels
That give ya chills
Hell done froze over
Cause now that bros older
I grow toastier toes
When it blows colder
A lone soldier
Hot feet, godspeed
Hope I meet, my sought peak
Before God reach
Down
And strike the ground
On some rapture shit
But if that's his schtick
I better rap this quick
So let's just
Rip this dab in the back of the classroom
And
Giggle and laugh at the shit that we see
We could get
Pissed as cats at the sight of the badge or
Trigger blasts from the fact that we are the disease
I know this time's short
Not sure my life's important
I could be bored in the morgue
Before I'm pushing forty
So fuck this Hubla and drama
Bout problems
Cause hey, at the end of the day
It is what it is
It is what it is man
I spit and hack
So no kiss backs
I'm still mad enough
To pack a sack of nuts
Into your crack and aqueducts
What's crack at lacking schmucks?
I'm still smacking brats with buds
Who had enough of sluts
Who brush what ups off
Their backs and butts
We ain't had em once
But labeled daft and dunce
If you don't smash
Or ash all your funds
Tryna mash the cunt
It's still masks and fronts
Im still a massive punk
I'll still an ass and crass
In passing just for laughs and fun
But hey, even when you are great
There's still strenuous waste
That spills and lends you distaste
But charade, play bright
Don't get stage fright
As long as you stay light and make right
You're paid nice at the gravesite
So rip this dab in the back of the classroom
And
Giggle and laugh at the shit that we see
We could get
Pissed as cats at the sight of the badge or
Trigger blasts from the fact that we are the disease
I know this time's short
Not sure my life's important
I could be bored in the morgue
Before I'm pushing forty
So fuck this Hubla and drama
Bout problems
Cause hey, at the end of the day
It is what it is