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chris kept - scratch that lyrics

snippet

[part i]

[?]

[part ii]

[first interlude:]
“hunter you started out, i believe as a sports writer
and then you went to uh, latin america and you were a correspondent there for awhile for the national observer
then you finally came to something you call uh, ganzo journalism
and you’ve done mostly for rolling stone, i think as_as sort of a national correspondent for them, is that right?
yeah
what_what, is ganzo journalism and why do you call it that?
that word has really plagued me, because uh
first i realized i was doing something different”

[second verse:]
yeah yeah yеah yeah
yeah yeah yеah yeah
ok, leaving from the party cup with bacardi
everybody know i’m bout’ to get behind the wheel and start it
yeah, bars are coming in like i was caught f_cking red handed
probably karma for leaving my ex stranded
on the side of i_35 with the sirens right behind him
but then i dipped and took a left and then went right to hiding
this the getaway, the sh_t that make you celebrate
busting out the speakers, coming with that sh_t i said i’d bang
kept em’ waiting now im back on my bullsh_t
everything i say they probably think i’m full of it
but know that this the truth, realer than your f_cking news
i’m the type you think is cute but when i show up you get schooled
just keep it cool for a g
what’s the rules to a fein when nothing matters in this world especially, you and me?
i could truly be a gangster, pimp
hang out where it’s dangerous
she ride the sacred d_ck i tell her make a wish (make a wish)
go mary poppins on your ass
my feet are on the dash, smoking weed and hash
driving ‘round collecting so much cash i need an umbrella
tell me what’s better than that?
and don’t tell me heaven because i’ve already been to h_ll and then back
(yeah, b_tch)
[third verse:]
so now i’m drunk as f_ck just rolling up another blunt
and tryna get some hoe to come over to put it up her b_tt
in love with stuff that’s gonna f_ck my nostrils, calling that sh_t oxy_gen (stuffed like cotton man)
hopefully i made it ‘fore they caught me dead
i mean… can’t you hear the way i make it bang?
f_ck a list, f_ck a critic, know i’m busy in the grave
was telling stories just to waste time
like how seven, eight, nine (ate?)
then wells had hit me up, i had to show him how to break the mic (break the mic)
hate your life? then buy the ticket take the ride
say it’s fine and kick it with the rest us who play with fire
stand up and stand out
f_ck it, jump off the roof with your pants down
make all the groupie b_tches pull cameras out
get the family house, turnt up when the parents out
…

- chris kept

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