standard filth (with: crouchin 40 sippas) - sylasybin lyrics
(verse 1: sylasybin)
spittin’ verses so loudly that hellen keller heard this
dirty lil curses on the tracks while he rehe-rs-s
b-ss f-ckin your ears, the alb-m comes with some nurses
they won’t reverse this, you better check some he-rs-s
that doctor dropped a shocker
you’re tellin’ me my lungs’ll bleed from just a couple poppers?
nah im kidding bro, i dont smoke tobacco
ive drank enough though to sublet a hospital
like addiction was optional
my tolerance was honourable
soul full of liquor im the lahey of my own show
j-rock and i selling trailer park porno’s
rippin’ apart insects, call me yoko
oh no, im gonna rearrange magic
pull some hats out of some rabbits
if they die thats f-cking tragic
but i hope you activists can look past it
when im onstage im a bit of a masochist
but if i look sexy no one get’s pissed
call me vain and i thrive on that shit
learn my name, and spell it right b-tch
i, i’m so obnoxious
why would you believe this?
if you do youre f-cking clueless
have you seen me? im a doofus
(verse 2: boge)
draining fortys like water boarding
2 corny hoes and i’m fornicating
i get foreign domes there’s no debating
i’m going wild as f-ck you can’t sedate me
i’ll keep my hands up and head down on the pavement
but when the b-tches flock you know i’m feinting
i might take a piece but i won’t eat her
pounding -ss you better call peta
i got cheeta cheetahs in leopard print
but when the b-tches see me it’s like man hunt
in cancun throwing tantrums you can see me rolling on the cannibus
these bunk b-tches i ain’t a fan of em so i grind em up with my magnums
i got mansions and manners got anthems and dancers got branches so money stay long and expanding yahhhhhhhhhhh
(verse 3: orca whale)
trappin out the basement…
aint want that b-tch i called the replacements
stayed in my lane aint had to switch
b-tch i ball like mavericks
i praise the god like catholics
but im talkin bout lil b…
b-tch there aint no tellin
where i’ll muhf-ckin be
beat the case like hardy boys
press the b-tton like corduroy
im snappin on this track like
a hipster with a polaroid
feelin like im gon shine
…always on my own time
i check the time im blinded
…im nickelodeon slimy
never rewind to the time i was broke
had flip phones like old folks
now i live that lavish life
shootin champagne out supa soakas!
(verse 4: sshredd)
piroutting on gl-ss tables like sad fables i’m back around the bend
head bobbing and treading water through lead soccer b-lls bleeding green and red
breathe in again, speak shit again, get rich and then beat dividends
i’m certain it’s closed curtain no short skirting or need to pretend
it’s the things i’m observing but never approaching attacking or boasting
it’s the blackberries blossoming letting me know that the clocks never slowing
illustrated so finely, but these days i’m wishing it looked more fictitious
with the sunlight so blinding my eyes only ever just see the malicious
or blisses that get dreamt up and then bashed overhead it’s not what i intended to happen
it’s like a seat belt unfastened that’s reaching to grab but releases it’s actions
or screaming matches to hear your own voice its appearing so frantically
and i’m all that i had to be but never past it is guess it’s a tragedy
verse 5: sylasybin)
munchin a snack, dead spiders and crack
lookin for shock value so you’ll pay attention to my tracks
pulling out fingernails, leavin trails of dead snails
that i puked up, f-cked up, polished up just past enough
ive got a problem
the problem is my liquors gone
so i’ll drink paint thinner with my dinner till i go and
get it on in my bedroom, on mushrooms, with sick tunes
misuse all my tissues to ignore my issues
go buy booze and swallow 15 cans of snus
sniffin’ glue ’cause i love to stick to this abuse
mix acid with catnip so my cat can cut loose
then get hit by a truck lookin for f-ckin pikachu
look at you, spittin’ all this nonsense
ignoring the rawness in your subconscious
taunting your conscious with all these toxins
and dark concepts without context or contents
oh, the irrelevance is constant
you’re losing yourself in your searching process
individuality is now plastic and processed
we wrongly believe that this life is a contest
so i grew up in a state of unrest
a country of progress
and global distress
i wear my discomfort in the clothes on my chest
so where does that leave me when i’m undressed?
im just a soul on stage, obsessed
possessed by my desire to be the best
im just a soul on stage, ingest
my words and dont question the truth in them yet
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