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terminal knowledge - jurassic cypher كلمات الأغنية

[verse]
what it is i’m blunted with tunnel vision
pick you to sudden death then jump from a f-cking cliff
it’s the master of puppets offering capital punishment
scratchin’ “f-cks wit it” off of these cats’ bucket list
wander through the jungle
pocket an abundance and i hustle it
oughta stop abusing substances
hot, use a oven mitten when cuttin’ this
y’all should loosen up a bit
although all you do is rubberneck a government to profit off the prost-tuted public
in solitude and slumber and ain’t bothered by corruption
targeting the mothership which pardons the injustices
convoluted glutton slobs
out of touch with the populace
hungry as some hippo-f-cking-potamuses
they want an omnipresence
they want you all defenseless
not a f-ck given what the consequence is
out of luck
and a lot of us are common senseless
bottoms up
the consensus is relentlessly indifferent
led to believe i’ll never be forgiven
lose the -ssault rifle and choose you a false idol
the music hall maestro asking “who recalls vinyl?”
long before y’all arrival
i was the archetype
y’all recycle garbage
i’m the carbon cycle
you need to know this ain’t a rap it’s a lab report
and our research shows you hacks need to practice more
shock the system, a couple thousand watts
up the voltage just a bit to touch the mountaintops
success
another epic fail
i wonder if heaven’s got a jail because i’m settin’ sail
it sure as sh-t ain’t a joke
term a hick and a yokel
but his rap sheet clean, no priors
the world been gettin’ stoned
turn a spliff to a roach
now go and grab me the needle nose pliers
we post fliers for the show and no one show up
take over podunk dives until i blow chunks (who’s chunks?)
i meant regurgitation
two dunces in detention for absurd behavior
never mention the station name or the call letters
small steppers, but, don’t call us babies
call us crazy
pay no regards to safety
on a gravy train for the long haul
stankin’
crater face like a golf ball
the pavement stained with tomato paste and quaker state
make a break for it
and a wavelength
sh-t i’m the sailor that sank the naval base
a major pain in the neck
and the keister too
been ingesting cigarettes and the cheapest brew available
until they claim the most dope are the stank face homies
they ain’t gotta say no mo’
except c’est la vie
they say what it is just may not be
c’est la vie
they say what it is just may not be

- terminal knowledge

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