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troubled mind - lunar c lyrics

[verse 1: lunar c]
acid tab under the eyelid
i’d rather dress like a d*ckhead and rhyme sh*t
than have a ghostwriter or a stylist, i’m childish
got a lot more in store like the website’s sh*t
i will give up all these grimy b*tches just to settle for a wife and kids
i know i’m lying, sh*t
me and danz shouldn’t make it look as easy as this
g*niuses all up in a rapper’s grill like vvses
beat ya senseless
feel free to be offended
no f*cks to give, i couldn’t find one
not evеn a dry hump
treat the three holes in your bally likе a bowling ball
poke both your f*cking eyes out and make you choke and all
left my baby mom to f*ck an average wh0re
eat the p*ssy with a plastic fork and sriracha sauce
sniff the cocaine through a singapore cane
you got a (?) d*ck, i got a kendo stick
lunar
[hook: lunar c]
troubled mind, i never found solace
you rappers are iffy, you don’t sound honest
i’ll only take your girl if she’s down for it
i just wanna bust, i’ll go to town on it
troubled mind, i never found solace
you rappers are iffy, you don’t sound honest
i’ll only take your girl if she’s down for it
i just wanna bust, i’ll go to town on it

[verse 2: stinkin slumrock]

[hook: lunar c]
troubled mind, i never found solace
you rappers are iffy, you don’t sound honest
i’ll only take your girl if she’s down for it
i just wanna bust, i’ll go to town on it
troubled mind, i never found solace
you rappers are iffy, you don’t sound honest
i’ll only take your girl if she’s down for it
i just wanna bust, i’ll go to town on it

[verse 3: black josh]
troubled mind
and i must clutch this mic
but such is life
i’ll break your neck, busta rhymes
back your boy before he has a ruptured spine
michael myers butcher knife
dump you in the countryside
your girl likes asphyxiation, not when you choke on mic
the only time you’ll hang with me is off a rope you climb
listening to brotha lynch while i’m home and high
return of the baby k!ller, tell her open wide
raise the dead
cutthroat, razorhead
i moonwalk, retrace my steps
in the wrong place again
my [?] sega gen
i’ve been living in your thoughts but i do not pay the rent
four bars left, that’s a kilo
and every line’s that a1 perico
paid in full (?)
b*tches sniffing round me like a beagle
it smells like what the rock’s cooking is illegal

- lunar c lyrics

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