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buck 65 & doseone - alive in a landfill lyrics

[buck 65]
i got it all figured out, brutes
wearin’ boots with arch supporters
marking boarders
givin’ harsh performers their marching orders
torturing a sorcerer
death comes swiftly
for bums
get some whiskey
strictly f+150
(hit me)
deaf, dumb and shifty b+tches
wanna watch ricardo dance
always wearing cargo pants
in my house, there are no plants
slack and sterile
(you’re my hero)
snacking at the cracker barrel
i don’t ride a harley
but i like to wear their black apparel
(error)
stranger to myself and a wayfarer
(error)
blisters and scorched hair
burned by the torch barer
sittin’ on a porch chair
listening to toby keith
reckless
wearing a neckless of coyote t++th
phony baloney beef
frequent demands
and like to tell you the truth
i gotta speak with my hands…
bob hope from the top rope
double axe handle
will suffice
i’m like vanilla ice with a wax candle
back channel ham and egger
bootlegger
jack daniels
bad breath. gruesome
air pollution
whack samples
big bear
ursa major. word. subject terminator
heat seeking missile and frequent public urinator
german raider
maverick bringing traffic to a standstill
my cds will always be alive in the landfill

[doseone]
i got a bright red birdcage
where the wild in my word stays
golden egg lays…
balanced, grooming its talons
it’s galant, booming like silence, like siren
no man is island
then does his business as isthmus
with infinite wishes
un+young, gifted and vicious
style freak or redeemer, loudspeaker eater
placenta meat tweeter
can’t sleep either, nightmare hair weaver
ex cloud seeder, proud out of work reaper
holding heat for any nonbeliever
degree fever inflaming, thousands of memories
trying to save him, from his very pen name
and gracious embrace of the iron maiden
exist bane+ing, bone staining
death+splaining, refrain shaman…
taming volcanos with a sustainable say so
and seen better days
halo c+cked day+glow dark heart rock
dishing big glisten sick sliver of wisdom
to which these children won’t listen
we’re on a mission…
to smack up your status quo
shatter souls like they plaster. no
punk with his ego whittled into a widdle needle
finna poke at my people…
and not leave with his esophagus
removed and hung on top of his hoodie set
or whatever’s in fashion. i’m famished, and stand canon, the d+mned’s vantage. cramming the manic i can’t manage onto the man canvas…
trance handed
landed in pen panic, then it all vanish…
and i live a bit
giving vivid spit, wizardness, kismet
physics of a bisiclet, tic tic tic…
risen dead intricate
is what it isntness…
picking his instrument, fliddling
skull crystaling, crackling, doubling, tripling…
to the sound of wolves listening…
barbed wire quietly thistling…
wind blows bone nose whistling
jel samples, while my pen channels annals
shrine all mine, like a candled mantels
summon the hard to handle. a can’t k!ll
cause my cds will always be alive in a landfill

- buck 65 doseone lyrics

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