now its all spaceship wishes, starry-eyed dreams ,nbalancing a heavy load high on that beam,npromises and fanmail kept in a shoebox,ndie for that female, tears made of dew drops,ntucked in goodnight sleep with the angels,nwhen you awaken youll be wearing the same clothesnhammer, wrench, amateur porn,nthis type of player never sits around to keep the bench warmni'ma high plains jerk off, a migraine with feet, ngotta lotta fly free belted into the seatsnrooftop hustler, gargle my spit, passenger pilot with a car full of chicksnyeah baby, i love the way your eyeballs look, nbut not enough to compensate for the time y'all tooknnow mash on the gas, lets mess up your hairdonhow longs it gonna take to get to Syracuse ?nnif i leave you tomorrow, will you pack your suitcase and follow?nor would you say peace and forget me next week?ncause sometimes it seems like its easy to breathenand all the kids read deep into the lyrics, nand the participants want to be peerlessnbut in my heads a symphony, of your epiphanynand all i wanted to do was be a mother fuckin' MCnny'all think that you know me that wellny'all think that you know me that wellni think y'all can all go to hellnand tell the devil i said fuck you (fuck you)ncause its all overkillnnone for the stellas, two for the guidos with the swollen eyesnmounted on my people with the lullabiesnand any poltergeist can rip and breathe the lilacsnbut i'm the type to accidentally kiss the Venus fly trapsnthis all reminds me of jellies using thunder catsnwith a gash on my criminal record, so run it backnand i can feel it as a child growin' upnthat half of these white rappers are probably just racist as fucknplay with the bugs to save a glimpse when i be in the masi drainage ditchnto get the brainy bits from skater chicks nnow the day can flip and i can keel overnthese are the anecdotes i don't reveal sobernthese are the painted quotes to get us paidnshe fronted like she stabbed me in the back with her shoulder bladentwo cigars touch i smoke 'em still cause Lucy thinks the homie slugnis into dell and only built for Cuban links,n anything can sing a schizophrenic wind songnbut i'ma stab it with an ice pick till its gone, scream a hate song drastic, npeoples droppin' albums and two weeks later its called classicngive me a bloody t-bone and some bread bowls to pay the 6 dollar and 60 cent death tollnbroken hearted blitzkrieg see all we've ever done is peace and MC'snny'all think that you know me that wellny'all think that you know me that wellni think y'all can all go to hellnand tell the devil i said fuck you (fuck you)ncause its all overkillnn(shh)nyou ain't nobody, you ain't nobody, you ain't nobodynno you (either) ain't nobody, no you aint shit