Pistol - Parks lyrics

This is not a hip-hop dry spell, it's a damn drought When I said "three" everybody put their hands out They getting cut like d** I road the roller-coaster in hell it felt just like love Im startin to sound just like Slug I just might quit, life s**s sh** Mikey gets paid to like it If it's a b**h then shes a dumb blonde white chick With lipstick on her crack pipe Blood on my ice-pick Spit on the windscreen, Jim Beam on the windshield Sellin' kids a dream, I'm a big deal in Pittsfield So if you see me at ma** it won't be catholic I'm sick of all these wack little local rap clichés Chase rabbits like a tab verse, don't quote me And Facebook is full of mad nerds tryna poke me And I don't have fans just a bunch of junkie stalkers Who think my life is all high times and Johnnie Walker But I've been lost for 6 months so for surfin' If I can't leave earth then I'll at least roam the surface And watch the sunrise hitch hiking with migrant workers And visa-versa, I'm still tryna find the purpose The early bird gets a dirty worm its hardly worth it I be the hardest working pervert on the party circuit Today started perfect Cloudy with a chance of percocets Toilets full of cigarettes a bourbon nervous reck Slow down son ya k**en em… Im given them the low down Cause Biggie woulda been 36 years old now… And this a kids game, good thing I've been paid Spit flames at Bill Gates and Warren Buffets bridge game I'm all in, balls deep, whatever you wan't to call it Y'all sheep, stallin' get back to the mall quick One nation under “God” so I root for the underdog Be careful for what you wish for The story of the monkey's paw Clark Kent confessional; change clothes in the casket It's heavy with everybody else's eggs in my basket f** saving the planet, every effort is last ditch I'm pa**ed it, we should just cash in and crash it It sounds drastic, but I think we should try it… I'm actually the messiah, I'm just keeping it quiet To watch the world die and hit the streets like a riot There's d** in the cows, and too much beef in our diet Leave some logic I'm tryna eat from this rhyme sh** Burnt my words on plastic so people could buy it The white-house been skeemin' with skynet To put a chip in our brains and cut off our eyelids And put us all in a prison and call it an island They call it criminals I call it surviving Kamikaze pilot in the war on Christmas This year my lump of coal might turn into diamonds… There's a gift for the verse and I'm touched with it I rap so good people say they love to see me do other sh** The gift in the curse and I'm stuck with it And I don't know what's worse, this or that, I don't f** with it Gift for the verse and I'm touched with it I rap so good people say they love to see me do other sh** The gift in the curse and I'm stuck with it And I don't know what's worse, this or that I don't f** with it