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decorated silence - l’orange & stik figa lyrics

[verse 1: open mike eagle]
b-tton my uniform for this stupidness
if i wore a suit and a tie, i’d make a noose with it
k!ll me, k!ll me, k!ll me dead
spill my head juices open
choke me, fill me with lead
i won’t even raise a limb cause i been afraid
i walk like a zombie and i swim like a renegade
favorite nightmare is ten degrees centigrade
i only know five songs and they’re all gucci’s “lemonade”!
i’m at a tender age when compared
to a dead rotten deer, when the shins get ensnared
and it dies in the trap, but the trap gets forgot
i’m a god in a trap, and it snaps on the spot?
and the party people clap
till the gavel gets dropped
then we’re all sentenced to eternal d-mnation
all of us
especially you

[hook: stik]
ain’t nothing promised in life but death and taxes
no time to rest, stepping over the mattress
best distractions, collecting protecting fractions
looking like success. overdressed in the casket
feeling resurrected, blowing breath into ashes
it’s anybody’s guess. can’t connect to the m-sses
felt it in my chest. hope that i left established
god directs the steps. some suggest that he’s absent

[bridge]
destruction is a habit, insatiable apet-te
can’t see it how i see it, they only see black and white

[verse 2: tron]
whenever i contemplate late nights
thoughts flowing like condensate drain pipes
concentrate day lights
across a pattern of gl-ss shards
?scatter a wreckage a deck of cards?
my reflection don’t play right
stack the checkers and check backstories
of facts of what they seem
cause you lack more informative means
act serious, carved into wax
we write letters of light and end them with dark periods

[verse 3: kon sci}
yo it’s hard to understand the dark dwellings of the heavens
so we capture afterlife, demand an answer to the questions
of eternity- the source of a lifespan
indelible daydream, the course of my flight plans
a glance at the ides even evaluate the sinister god
seein it forthright, comparable, clairvoyance to mortals
who talk fight, disposable chalk lines
fatalities stares cold
into the abyss of any man’s soul

[hook 2]
devil’s asking price – yet to be satisfied
soul still intact, yet to be sacrificed
ain’t been living lavish but actually gratified
hungry as a haitian with holes in my bag of rice
destruction is a habit, insatiable apet-te
how full is the gl-ss, as it p-sses your sight
can’t see it how i see it, they only see black and white
while my grey matter splices all these fragments of light
gone

- lorange stik figa lyrics

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