Absynth

Rollin down the window Puffin on that indoor Blow it on to the outdoor Thoughts from before I became my own foe In this split second personality He lick it he spit He's a redneck on a stick And he is stuck on the butt Of yet another cancer stick Yeah you know there ain't no Inuendo Straight up blastin through the ghetto With my sick ass six string call it guitto Hanging out like shape shifter call me ditto A masculine mystique though I'm not an X-man I don't hoard comic books in my basement I remember the days before I knew what base meant a basic mint in a glass straw, when I hit my bed the bottom of the barrel that was the last straw needless to say I'd rather be needleless but I don't want to go back to rockin the hospice blue vest its a dress with no pockets and a tiny bridge gap at the back you can wear 2 north and south pole but the principle remains the same I was detained, called insane like an animal in a cage tested and reclaimed tried and tamed to the tunning of a room, so I blow on my reed and I read the room, facial expressions swaying with words as they intricately peice together the grand peice for peace where we'll discover how it all made sense and was for the better of today that we wouldn't have had it gone another way anyway ride or die that's motto, I can try to freestyle but my trains derail, miss ideas words and phrases to complete my freestyle mission against my twin I compete, I bring that fire always carry a lighter at least half full in the sense that if it's halfway it's still half usefull I bring the heat to the fire like an olympic torch runner when I sit down with my cell and pretend to be a writter, no pen or paper save trees for later I'm the northern star to find me gotta be lucky or first find the little dipper, oursa minor, my obsession With the aeolian mode and its variant the phrygian dominant its about orientation to find a sense of direction in the absense of absinthe or any other chemical inbalance inducer, I'd like to be a producer but I can't find a mentor, tryna craft my own steeze Tryna capture the essence of the great outdoor, natural flow this beat is mostly organic yo. Just the samples for drums were downloaded granted true that but I gotta outsource some stuff fool come on cuz im Rollin down the window Puffin on that indoor Blow it on to the outdoor These are thoughts from before way before I became my own foe In this split second personality He lick it he spit He's a redneck on a stick And he is stuck on the butt Of yet another cancer stick what the difference between a piano a fish and a pot of glue? you can tune a piano but you cant tuna fish what about the pot of glue? I knew youd get stuck there hehe