passion of the pacifist - carter wilson lyrics
first and foremost
i feel it’s most appropriate to let you folks know my motive
so it’s no surprise when i vocalize my soul to life across this ocean
thought provoking behold my fire
oakland’s own roaming nomad
i don’t socialize
i only rhyme and guide the quotes cuz i’m too old to cry
i smoke a bowl and multiply
ultra-high i’m where the vultures fly
the culture died and i been waiting all my life for exposure
looking for closure my eyes couldn’t get any lower
witness the stoner flicking the bic on christmas morning
picture the grinch but b-tch i’m bolder
sick with pneumonia
sh-t get ridiculous so we roll up like old rugs
got bone thugs on the bose i’m posted
speaking to myself, my family, and the handful of homies who actually know me
i can only breath cuz i’m only me
lonely in a crowded room
i don’t know how my flower bloomed
but i’m soaking up this ocean breeze
yelling “f-ck what i’m supposed to be”
then i hit the swisher like an open three
cuz nowadays everybody closed off
it’s only us in this life but we don’t talk
i can’t stand the fakes
my namesake shaped and molded by a pained past
but i remain devoted to the task of navigation
i ain’t straying from this path as i bask in sanity to mask my contamination
i laugh when they blame it on a fascination with acid
but i had to break my mind cuz i was tired of being taken advantage of by my attachments
my brain ran amok but i gained stamina
i graduated from tabs to caps and that seemed to be the catalyst
this the p-ssion of the pacifist
laughing when disaster hits
labyrinth in my mansion mind i hide inside because my attic’s sick
and i knew i needed to master this craft til i could escape the fates of these broken brats
and no b-tch i won’t look back
i can’t look back
i can’t fake the funk
god put a number on the days to come
it’s dangerous i ain’t afraid of nothing
i can’t adjust
i hate the fakes – it’s dangerous but i’m the crazy one
been this way since my dad drained his nuts and gave my mom a baby bump
my brain corrupt
this place ain’t safe for us
it’s too late for trust
i wait for judgement day
they look the other way
the tanks are empty, the banks are busted
they break the budget, they shave the numbers
pain the public, shame the subjects
the bush’s f-cked us
the good book f-cked us
they pay the judges
slay my brothers, rape our mothers
we waste abundance, wait
the chains are rusted but we a slave to the wages and the way it was
so no wonder why we staying stuck
paradox, we hate to love it
bullets fly from taser guns
facing blunts ’til i’m lit like a laser stun
shades on b-tch i’m from the bay
young blazing sun gon’ rise when the rain is done
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