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Rozz Dyliams – Christ In A Vice lyrics
Yeah
olivetti underwood from under the bed
Vol um ross (Super Shaman)
I still can’t cry on the spot
But compared to be four
Now
I cry a lot
Stay fried fill glass pipe with pot
Mix liquid ingredients first
Then add the dry on top
Mood stabilizer scripts
Like it or not
I get so high that even though I don’t know where I am
I know that I’m by the top
And the rhyme don’t stop
I’m getting married to a noose next week we’ll officially tie the knot
Exhale fiberglass lung wheeze
Junk sick
Trying to find the pod
My real ness is tied up in my mental illness
Fuck trying to find a job
I wanna jump off the side of a building
And land on spikes and rocks
I needed to come back home
This is depression land
And I’m the God
I crash like Darby
March the soul
Plant the germ inside the flock
On stage expression stoic
To give the impression
I don’t like to rock
At my farewell show
I’ll end my career with a rifle shot
I roam Seneca county
and post up in a nice old squat
Hollow vetti portable
The shitty manuscript
That I’m trying to shop
Hobo journalist with train lines to hop
When I drop its like I put Christ in a Vice til’ he pops
Were programmed to suffer
But not simply designed to just stop
Brutal technique as a writer
Instigate fights in a cypher
Delicate and precise off the top
Fuck the law stab a knife in a cop
Too many people on earth and I’m trying to wipe them all off
My old journal entries
Give me the heebie jeebies
I drop shit like G G
Shadows dance in the lowlight of the hall
I remember my peers and I were small
I frightened them all
I live life like I can’t function without syliciban
Intertwined with a pile of raw
I’m hell on earth live!
Ice will devolve
I’m on top of your head like lice
And flyer than a bonzai pilot is all
I listen to my old music and don’t know why I’m applaud
At venues before sets in the bathroom alone with a knife in the stall
Getting hype with it yall
Lyrical Jesus with a stab on the side of my torso
And a big slice in my palm
When I’m alone I punch myself right in the jaw
I stay up into the night im til it falls
Craft hour
Smash a bunch of smashed up powder
Insomniac as I stack racks
I laugh louder
Right for the harvest
Pluck me off of the vine before I rot
I’m coming out the hardest
Yeah yeah yeah yeah
Dylan Ross 2012..
Uh..late 2012.early 2013
Super Shaman
Super Shamanistic ways
Uh..I..I’ve did Goat Skull this is kinda like
You might even wanna think of this as a Goat Skull part two
I’ve got goat skulls upon goat skulls
I got stacks on stacks of Goat Skulls y’know what I’m sayin’
Some private journal entries that are no longer private no what I’m saying
Plus, the footnotes
You bitches better check the footnotes
That’s the new raps I’m kicking now
Is
I’d like to see you
Try to be you
And step to me ya’ll
olivetti underwood from under the bed
Vol um ross (Super Shaman)
I still can’t cry on the spot
But compared to be four
Now
I cry a lot
Stay fried fill glass pipe with pot
Mix liquid ingredients first
Then add the dry on top
Mood stabilizer scripts
Like it or not
I get so high that even though I don’t know where I am
I know that I’m by the top
And the rhyme don’t stop
I’m getting married to a noose next week we’ll officially tie the knot
Exhale fiberglass lung wheeze
Junk sick
Trying to find the pod
My real ness is tied up in my mental illness
Fuck trying to find a job
I wanna jump off the side of a building
And land on spikes and rocks
I needed to come back home
This is depression land
And I’m the God
I crash like Darby
March the soul
Plant the germ inside the flock
On stage expression stoic
To give the impression
I don’t like to rock
At my farewell show
I’ll end my career with a rifle shot
I roam Seneca county
and post up in a nice old squat
Hollow vetti portable
The shitty manuscript
That I’m trying to shop
Hobo journalist with train lines to hop
When I drop its like I put Christ in a Vice til’ he pops
Were programmed to suffer
But not simply designed to just stop
Brutal technique as a writer
Instigate fights in a cypher
Delicate and precise off the top
Fuck the law stab a knife in a cop
Too many people on earth and I’m trying to wipe them all off
My old journal entries
Give me the heebie jeebies
I drop shit like G G
Shadows dance in the lowlight of the hall
I remember my peers and I were small
I frightened them all
I live life like I can’t function without syliciban
Intertwined with a pile of raw
I’m hell on earth live!
Ice will devolve
I’m on top of your head like lice
And flyer than a bonzai pilot is all
I listen to my old music and don’t know why I’m applaud
At venues before sets in the bathroom alone with a knife in the stall
Getting hype with it yall
Lyrical Jesus with a stab on the side of my torso
And a big slice in my palm
When I’m alone I punch myself right in the jaw
I stay up into the night im til it falls
Craft hour
Smash a bunch of smashed up powder
Insomniac as I stack racks
I laugh louder
Right for the harvest
Pluck me off of the vine before I rot
I’m coming out the hardest
Yeah yeah yeah yeah
Dylan Ross 2012..
Uh..late 2012.early 2013
Super Shaman
Super Shamanistic ways
Uh..I..I’ve did Goat Skull this is kinda like
You might even wanna think of this as a Goat Skull part two
I’ve got goat skulls upon goat skulls
I got stacks on stacks of Goat Skulls y’know what I’m sayin’
Some private journal entries that are no longer private no what I’m saying
Plus, the footnotes
You bitches better check the footnotes
That’s the new raps I’m kicking now
Is
I’d like to see you
Try to be you
And step to me ya’ll
Lyrics taken from
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