controlled demolition - goretex lyrics
intro:
america is so big, and everybody is working, making, digging, bulldozing, i guess the sufferers suffer at the same rate, in an age of madness, to expect to be untouched by madness, is a form of madness, but the pursuit of sanity, is a form of madness, too…
scratches:
kleptomaniacs x3…
[?]
rude boy…
verse 1:
lookin’ down at you, laughin’ at your funeral service
if i said anything less then it would be at the service
have your mama in a black dress she can’t even purchase
i’m the son of a b*st*rd son and i’m burning through churchеs
no faith, f*ck you pay me like i’m back to basics
cadillacs, nordica sweats, gucci links and asics
boy i’m too famous, ask a c*74
supеrcoven clique, 200 push*ups before the morning cough
fear my pain, homie, it’s called intuition
i’m like 9/11 on mic, it’s controlled demolition
sippin’ guinness with the heroin pills, medicine benches
switchin’ up like ozzy when he went from denim to fringes
scratches
verse 2:
i sell rock to cats and lawyers, judges and masons
rock stars, 1981 st**z like ric ocasek
taste the bakery, stuffin’ dough at the crack hats
laser weapons, infrared, flippin’ up hatchbacks
money launder over the border was daily assed out
the mothership, exhumed the projects with just a single zap
2012, the king of collapsed bear facts
total anarchy, it’s the truth, you get yo’ pairs clap
impaled nazarene spittin’ darts through rabbis clean
the magazines in mac*11, dirty needles with the soilent green
synagogue black leads get beats like sun pharaoh
canarsie to malibu in the base camos
scratches
verse 3:
the king of drug music for thugs, execution to some
my grandma riz, henry hill, how the f*ck can i go wrong?
i’ve been through in sh*t so long for mad years
skinheads buried at the cemeteries, dead careers
i break bread with cannabis crooks and rapists
project vagrants, i bring the pain, homie, it’s devastation
rollin’ dutches embalmin’ fluid is dingy
canarsie kid you know me from farragut, son, he runs the bellies
heavy metal legend, israeli with 6 uzi’s
teachin’ the youth how to roll blunts and f*ck groupies
never snitch, take jimmy’s advice and die rich
big lines for the ditch, sick shovels, you never trust a f*ckin’ b*tch
scratches
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