getting me hot

[Verse 1] Come on, hop all aboard, on my track to absence Here, take some absinth It sends mad chills, and thrills from a brew And a stog or two Nigga now guess who, like red and blue And I rock em’ sock em’ till I drop dead Mark So fuck my larynx right mark Poor little Lorax The centrifugal force is becoming so difficult And I’m flipping half decent for things that don’t seem to flip the reciprocal Just be easy man, and appease the needy It’s like a blind eye treaty With two pennies on my foals Hoping for jesters and jokers to take me to Styx Ha, I got jokes now But I’m still floating down this deep motion But the E is floating away The spokes between the tube and you today Teach tikes to take it irrational While daddy’s bashing trash that is thrashing Down the long cylinder platinum Long cylinder flashin’ em’ While I am parallel sitting back Sipping on my cup of Henny and I’m laughing at them Irony is radical, but how sad is it though that I can’t even complete the full 360 And I’m fuckin’ my head up with all these demented thoughts Man I feel so empty nigga And I’m trying to transfuse into this new improvement But Tim Allen’s at my home now, and Santa’s feeling hella useless ho (ho x2) Rock to my dark cynical cycle, (cycle( x3)) Let’s hold on to the grips See the chain is kinda loose so we might slip Slit our wrist, fuck it start the next day though The Cycle is so vicious [Verse 2] And I’m popping the puss of this sus scenarios (oohh) It’s kinda scary though How loud my beam screams for the balance And the challenge is just to stick it in Yeah, maybe for you niggas, fuck it can’t lie It’s been like 2, 4, 6, 25 bitches fucked 300 Oz of that brown liquor flagged, upped and chucked And a centuries worth of green sticks down And now happen to cancel it out with the cancer ones Nicotine fit, you dumb fuck Oh my god, stop, wait I’m not a bad kid, I just make bad decisions, alright It’s been from diapers, to disciples with the mammy That I grew a few screws and tied them tight Then I counteracted with the mannerisms And I’m the product of the family I be coming home late at night, stoned as fuck And I’m running to pick up the pickup truck Repo my heart again Shipping and handling lines, to pick up the rest And the custody’s there, the cardiac rest But the brain is insane And I’m fighting a mirror, feel it in my veins Joe Man I’m oh so vain The pain the pain, the plane, the plane So here comes the thunder Sahara dry With a wet dick, and momentary gain of the clarity For the more monotonous, topic less Day in and day out shit, the outfits I’m wearing Are getting me hot like Auschwitz Zyclon B, just want to get me and my niggas on the board Bill, kill that nigga when I see him With my Puma Uma in the Puma shoes Montezuma drinks all 3 of us While my third eye wipes its crust fool Man I’m seeing dust And then it just blinks Repeating the cycle And I open up the god givens While I creep and crawl to peak and see If there’s a door key discouraging my furnace And I flourish filled with doubted sweat Fill it in a cup, fucked up of depressive bev (I can’t even encourage me)