Hook: Throw the match We don't ever look back at the ash Blood stains in my teeth As I laugh Walking through the fire whiskey In my flask My brother Throw the match My brother Throw the match Verse 1]: Milk's gone bad Travel a lot Mail piles up And the apples will rot The fickle wanna ask If we can battle or not I say unravel the knot And a rattle will pop Walk down the block With a handful of rocks Looking at Goliath Like he cattle to prod The sky is the limit They can't handle the fog If our van break down We bringin' camels & dogs Giddy up Divvy up all of the rations Irrational Pa**ion in casual Fashion You travel with snakes Samuel Jackson Actors with accents no actual rappin The other day I threw My ring in the ocean & thanked god that I wrapped It up in a Trojan Heroes never look back at explosions So we keep goin' & never trust no one Hook: Throw the match We don't ever look back at the ash Blood stains in my teeth As I laugh Walking through the fire Whiskey in my flask My brother Throw the match My brother Throw the match Verse 2 [Ft. P.O.S]: I been burnt Lit it Hold it too long Forget it I ain't learnt This whole sh**'s a mess But f** it I'm with it All my years All my fears Have come true But nothing has k**ed me Who are you? LOL At your face sh** yeah Come get me My whole crew is made Of monsters
We driven How you been livin? I stay riding With some hell bent On doing We keep sh** moving Ain't no use Unless we cruise With a view That is truly Worth looking at Murder every sycophant Serve the servants Ipecac I'm barf incarnate Hit alarms and Carve a part to flee I been starving just to eat you My only purpose is free Yeah Barking up like every single tree Wrong or right If I die tonight Just know I'm doing it Extra in the Afterlife Hook: Throw the match We don't ever look back at the ash Blood stains in my teeth As I laugh Walking through the fire whiskey In my flask My brother Throw the match My brother Throw the match Verse 3: So much flavors Like the mic of a dive bar Throw the match Follow through With the side arm Get money f** critics Make you a pie chart Ain't gonna be a b**h In record label side cars No way no sir Not a dodo f** a pose X-rays as the promo Good to know Drunk in a row boat Need to find god Still can't from my phone though Direct in from my heart To an XLR Drop a flow Leave the bar With the smell of tar Bed of stars in the sky Yeah we set apart Never put the fame & the women Ahead of art Cut ties Burn it down Like it's Fort Mac Rep Alberta & the people Who support that All in with a bluff And a short stack Hoping that it doubles Next time we report back