Grim Hours

Word to my mother's tears, look what the drugs can do I was a troubled youth, alcohol hiccup bubbles blew Digging in your stomach's food I'm fucked up on that syrup and I'm seeing more than one of you, tongue is blue Huffing spray paint, drunk from fumes Gun barrel in your mouth like a beer funnel tube You cats want to spit, talk shit, and smoke a blunt or two I came to take the flesh off of your body and wear it in front of you Hydroplane off of your blooden pools I don't want to shake hands or hug with you I want to leave this battle, go strap on camo, come back later and hunt for you I don't want to just see you give up, son, I want you to get both of your lungs removed I'll do it for a buck and some jungle juice The way I look and spit will puzzle dudes I look kind of ill, uh, cause I chugged a ton of shrooms I kill prostitutes and rush em back home like, "Supper soon!" I'll find the hiding spot where your bright soul is You don't want to get in my mind when it's wide open It's like walking inside of a mine field blindfolded Burn pines, intern lines, leave wide oaks split Who spits goon-like? My rhymes ogreish, on some "child-eating giant oak" shit Silenced 45's out the ride, smoking Till this audience looks like a red dyed ocean Coughing up resin out of the lungs Torching mountains of bud Smoke a pound in a blunt Who's high? My head's a planet with clouds and a sun Bodies washed up on the sound of sin tongues Oh no he didn't, soaking prescription You can smell the tablet when I'm pissing 1 0 0 0 lidded I can stay focused Robo-tripping (Will you please wait until my son Jak returns? That's all I'm asking you to do.) (That good for nothing son of yours will never come back.)