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bloody mucus tar ball - ayceeonethirty lyrics

man’s on the couch crashed off of meth
probably need to check if he’s sleepin or f-ckin dead
but all i’ve ever done is waste all my breath
way i’m livin you would think i wasn’t terrified of death
trying to fight away the drinkin right now though i’m throwin up
still i feel the itch and i’m thinkin i need to feel this cup
to get the taste out, throw on mf doom
ignore the mess through the smoke of the cigarette, closing the bedroom door
desensitized from where i live, that’s how it is
got bums out on benches barely a minute away from palaces
still i don’t wave when i’m walkin by
b-tching like i’m not a part of the problem, my mind’s colonized
you busy fighting for status, cash, and -ss
court tickets to cavs, you’ll be at your job when it blasts
and i tend to ask how i can know this, yet give it all for these dollars
feel i’m white lighter destined, leavin hidden messages for scholars
had to grow up start respectin what i say more
recognizin in my rotten t–th sat this claymore
don’t mean to be so hateful, ain’t felt like myself in years
i’m countin change up for nuggets, homies got wives and careers
sometimes i talk without meaning to, losin track of a week or two is normal sh-t
when h-lls around it’s hard to find the peace in you
afraid to talk about, sh-t’s so common now it’s corny
barely actin human, then we askin why the gunman count growin
disconnected from people rather speak to that screen
they go through years of school but clueless what that hat means
you sh-tty fake monsters with scripts like ed norton
you ain’t gotta deal with this and have you relationships distorted
cause they feel like they don’t know you, switch in minutes
feel like something else control you, wake up in your homies kitchen
that’s my life, makin sh-tty moves while i trudge slowly
tryin to separate the truth from the lies that they say they told me
but who’s lyin who’s lyin is hard to conclude
y’all go as far to think the government’s projectin the moon just to fool the flat planet
and y’all just pick and choose facts
only give a sh-t about the current topic of that news cast
and whatever the view’s cast are crowin bout
like ye they just confuse all the nuance that leave my open mouth
think i’m tryin to play shooter like bradley cooper
can’t discern it, used to followin, so they left in a stupor
and now the same ones sh-t talkin end up in my inboxes
feel i’m outgrowin lots of friends, almost wish i could stop it
maybe that’s the process, feelin exhausted
but no hands’ll fill these pockets but mine, “d-mn it he hasn’t lost it
who we gonna diss on without his noggin to p-ss upon?”
divy up the remnants, the ends and odds of the lyric god
when he’s long gone shut up, let him sleep
ain’t heard no silence in a decade it’s growin worse by the week
son you shouldn’t duel with the cigarette shogun
bl–dy mucus tar ball loaded in his throat gun
you ain’t the one they payin for, you ho ho lun
they on they phone scrollin til they know your sh-t show’s done
yeah my homies never nae nae’d, still in love with the old age
that’s how i keep goin, i keep my nose in the “flow-nase”
there’s no gain with no pain, no need for “are you okay”
you can play with patronizing when he let the final bowl blaze (yeah)

- ayceeonethirty lyrics

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