Themselves - John Brown's Vaporizer - Tekst piosenki, lyrics - teksciki.pl

John Brown's Vaporizer

Themselves

Them

39

Rap

Tekst piosenki
[Doseone] Sure pal...I'll sell you your scalp back For every something to draw with you ever owned and...nahh Uncle, give me a blackened lung and clavicle... Or I could wriggle my zero non emphatical... Strap you to a mountain side and hurl redwoods at your rotten hide Under here while boughs, bird's nests and tree limbs fly... You simply...drip down the rock face...pureed head case... Close as teensy-weensy crumbs of a whole Fall upon the forest's plush green canopy... I, forgive me...like rain...happy now...no brain...err And wrongful treatments what I'll preserve you in...mummification.. The uncouth barbarian takes it in the...huhuhuh... It's what he deserves. under glass fine grain crushed herb... Reckon I could make a mint charging a healthy cover for a glimpse Of your freakish clump of quadriplegic gusto... Something done swung low...but your going home in a crucible...jerk Call it a meltdown...it's really good clean smart... Soul and body of john brown sings in me... No...you start... No...i insist...you start...as you were... Watch...far end of the cantilever's sparkling thermometer burst...sparkling... Thin air folds the crumpled to stationary...huh.... And unsuspecting solid blocks of refuse to rock Apparently pour with apologetic and "can I please go see the nurse?" Right before my eyes..."I don't feel so good..." Whimper snivel bounces off bell tower stone for lastly gongs and chimes In what's clockwork...sullen hunchback Pressure rings out to trail blood on lobes...abandonment's all about your... Impregnable and hit the lights yaknowwhatI'msayin' jive turkey Hunting season's open...so I hum "We Are the World" Polishing a 12-gauge conversion ratio...pausing Now and again to practice you foul calls and set the sight Dinner's waiting...get a move on My time you won't not be extremely careful with that ink pen...or Bust stuffing waltzes in smug...extending a metaphor As I hang this inexpensively framed license to practice taxidermy on the wall you...tear..."he's certified..." for real... No crocodile...no tough shell...dull blades, less formaldehyde To finish 'er up...some grooming here, a glass eye there... Needle thread...whooahla! nothing's prolonged...you make the room Subtly off-setting the bearskin rug and lusciously upholstered ottoman... Hardcore...far from...treasure of the trove Boy...you'd better snuggle up in a passive voice...or... Carry on and leave me no choice..."who's the vaporizer?" It's the boy in me that binds a worldly gutted man's angst to change Celebratory delta paints shit-eating grins On what you and mirrors think my face looks like... Visuals expecting this alone despite A nothing dissimilar has prepared its most stable student With number 2 pencils and a sick sense of humor. prude lent Me a whopping six years of fun in the sun...i see it all...you blink... To be blinded and amused, cheering, clapping, palms vermilion... To raw-soar...never feeling a note... I could cry for you all but empathy...wept smudges what's wrote To lock, stock and barrel surroundings with quotes Coffee through corners of loose leaf...my later on Environmental processing unit..and you say cheese In a torrid three-piece tunic... So I can bank their drift and fill a page to it... Golly, I'll lead 'em all second hand virgins out of the grain shortage With a no longer lit roach and thimble full of prestigious...or I may find your devoted half-mast and shift thick skin to brash And show you sad's six-hundredth and something shade... Swearing solemnly you'll see no parts of unscathed... Do though, consider this frame of mmm..molestation More than a suspect identity roast... Since it's really your last hippity hiphoppin' hope And open gets no wider as I provide for your cope... With twice the substance and conversely quadruple the texturizer Who's the...prey tell...who's the vaporizer?
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