The Red Light

歌詞

The fuckin' Trump Yeah cut it up, cut it up This ain't no, this ain't no bright lights and big city It's dark alleys, red lights and no pity I got it, locked, stocked, and two smokin' bongs Got trees soaked and drawn, the mute grow dissolve drawn Independent like Ralph Nader When I hate y'all like Dallas Cowboy tailgaters I used to cut up my arms Now 12 arms cut up my vinyl pawns Fuck fawn, I get embalmed on the john Then step onstage for encore Stab the promoter with the pen from his Palm 4 East demenic, head dented, so devious The most mischievous, check out the sleaziest Deep in the dead of night, Peddlers getcha head right This here be a soundtrack for the Red Light Lick the side of my mouth out, see the words, gouged out Letterin', hangin' from the jaws, down stout A verse in blood, that only hybrids see And the non-creatives test my words fro HIV [Chorus: x2] This here ain't no bright lights and big city It's dark allies, red lights with no pity For all-a y'all raw dawgs that get gritty Stack ones, carry guns, and live shitty You get the tip while I piss on the bar check Give a bitch some head that I pulled out of a car wreck Am I angelic or just slightly off track My bones shift when my ripped off wings flap Now it's a damn shame Don't even fuck with that bull that got Time Corp Coursin' through his veins Eon's called fierce, 'cause he's all weird Leave the fuckin' record all cut up like Paul Pierce My pain pour, quicker than Paul Painful bullet holes that contain splinters from the front door You seen how I did ya dawgs Sent 'em home, souls collected, impaled on telephone poles They all be catchin' eights when I be slashin' fakes Makin' fun of me? I'm still pullin' out on classmates With laser-guided missiles that don't miss Oh bitch, you don't want to test when I hold this [Chorus: x2] When the Earth is cast, it's fuckin' gun ashes With different aspects of microphone spastics Froze elastic, ass kissed the tragics Swimmin' through ya petty bullshittin' life jackets For the most glamorous eat this shit raw E.C. put Cage down like a sick dog Now kids fiend for my solo LP Like crack addicted Co-Flow fans, you just flee Slayin' drones, beat 'em up with sticks and stones Stick with man-to-man, don't fuck around with zones If I'm home or on neutral turf, when I blurt You will hurt, this mics spurts when I smell dirt I got a bullet with a name on it, dick got a blade on it Lung got a stain on it, bottom-feeder get AIDS on it I drop shit for the crowds to figure out You touch the mic the crowd'll breath and pour they liquor out [Chorus: x2] The Starbuck, the word king Alchemist, smut peddlers, ah-ha My world is blue, Eastern Conference