Jackson Pollock

[Intro] The gig is in the center of downtown Austin, in a not very soundproof tent. Unfortunately for us, the not very soundproof Canadian tent is right next door and we've been scheduled to perform at the exact same time as Canadian musicians, the Swollen Members [Verse 1: Madchild] Yo, my name is Madchild, I pack a fuckin' wallop I'm makin' songs, doing shows enough to pack my wallet Makin' stacks, makin' racks, I'm a rap-a-holic Speadin' color all around like I was Jackson Pollock I'm from Swollen Members kid, every track is solid Line us up against your shit, you'll get your track demolished Cause rappers hear my shit, they need some aspirin You know they hear my shit, it make em look like they're a has-been That's the concepts I'm havin' problems graspin' Colder than Alaska, from Jasper to Aspen Old as fuck and my voice is kind of raspy In this shit for life, you don't have to bother asking I'm kinda crazy, that's the key to my demotion Makin' songs, reflectin' while I deal with my emotions I'm like an onion, you gon' have to peel the layers A silverback gorilla swingin' on the chandeliers Never sounded iller, I've been killin' it for years Dealin' with my fears Head, feelin' like it's clear I'm venomous with these words A minimalist that hordes My den is a twisted world My pen is a mystic sword [Interlude] We're alive sucka Rappers are in danger I get a rush when I bust Hardcore rap music that make your ears ring [Verse 2: Prevail] Pressure barrel Metric electrical Overload the spectrum Locomotive freight train I'm trained to look in both directions Hazard signs Flashing red lights Blazing air horns Rare forms, intelligent life buried in rose thorns Cold storms forming on this restily coast We destiny's most Your head's on a post The specter of ghosts Floatin' apparition, my position you loathe There's more fear than Las Vegas when the vagabonds rose Roundin' Russian roulette with all the henchmen you sent I ran out of room in the tomb, some are stuffed in the vent And now it's colder and lower as the temperature plummets You're frostbitten and the famine's got you holdin' your stomach No need to gnaw it and chill it[?] Will it be red when I spill it? Probably, honestly And maybe a little more than acidic It's like the Chronicles of Riddick when it goes pitch black I'm BAX WAR till the day I die and won't switch back, come on