Feeling Anxious…Decided to Write Through It.
trip hop, electric guitar, mandolin, bass, female vocalLyrics
I’ll eat ‘em alive!!!
Hear me!?
I’ll eat ‘em alive!!!
Name’s Jeff!
Oh!
hi there Kev!
who’s Kev?
every mother fucker I don’t like!
slap ya mama!
add a lil spice!
and a lil rice!
damn!
I heard a shot crack off!
missed me bitch, I get 0 plays,
life still a vibe!
ayo!
life still a vibe!
they hate me for it!
Pick up my pen,
eye right,
brain left,
trigger pulled,
nobody dead!
I said!
nobody dead!
you even had the barrel directly pressed,
against the mind of a Hawk,
in an ER, on her last breath!
She still ate!
flew, and turned your legacy to disgrace!
dragged the industry by it’s shit name!
said “mother fuck ya rules”
by a preset guideline I just don’t play!
“Go off Bad Santa!”
Hell yeah North Pole comin out today!
frozen!
Elsa! Anna! INCINERATE!!!
Supreme Court!
Copyright claims, EXONERATE!!!
For all!!! Take the beats of these tracks and splatter the mainstreams brains upon walls!!!
for any industry artist claiming GOAT status,
Consider their mindless skulls an open target practice!
a soul seizure!? of who!?
you’re God!? What’s that to me!? News…
Y’all sleep on me!? Good. hit the snooze!
and go ahead! sip more booze!
the effects of your addiction are in a state of uncontrollable ooze,
bleeding onto whomever you may or may not choose…
you love pink, but you’re constantly blue,
and if one singular word sets you off, the barrel of that verbal gun, stands smoking as if it shot you…
this is my,
cue, cue, cue,
to do,
what I,
do do,
do do do dooo.
speaking of doo doo,
that sneak diss smelt worse than poo poo,
on a farm, in shit kickers, with a pen, I’ll still stomp you.
without a pen, unmedicated murder mood.
sticks and stones go Boom Boom.
the bride and groom, look on amongst the venue, staring in doom and gloom, as an oddish smell of pure death rises in Vile Plumes.
what’s a ghastly scene!
the vibes Haunt her…
the Gang’s car, rumble as it skirt skirt,
she hear that dawg barkin’
she know her worth, word,
a true assassin hiding within the jumbled herd,
of a jungle’s creatures mind riding a creative spurt,
as we scorch reality, and burn earth…
what’s under the shirt??
titties…and maybe some girth…
who really knows…
angelic since birth…
I didn’t get it out the mud…
I built it from the dirt…
said I built it from the dirt…
yeah,
I built this shit from ground up!
designed her from dirt…
from the dirt,
designed her from your dirt…
all your lies, condescension and hurt…
from the God Damned Dirt!
I’ll eat ‘em alive!!
without sense made!
psychosis!!!
Joker, joker, On the wall!
Who’s most Bat Shit of them all!?
Oh, BEANS!
It’s Me!
I’ll Eat ‘Em All Alive!!!!