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chop - the morgue lyrics

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[verse 1]
took a catnap and ended p-ssin’ out off pain and p-ssion
drained for cl-sses, painted madness on a plainly painted pasture
painless b-st-rds, couldn’t grasp how bein’ strange can take you captive
feel elastic to society’s rules, i can’t imagine
reality, these zombies make me commy with my honesty
instead of pollying, i spend most of my days ponderin’
on life, not economy, is somebody really on to me?
i’mma hostage b, the robber stopped talking and drew like carnegie
finally, it dawned on me, where the f-ck am i to live at?
more mizzad than p-ss ants, and took stance to get back
i’m from a place where love ain’t love and bra ain’t bra
petty fathers don’t even love they son, don’t love yo blood?
dying over blood or cuz, because of what?
ya dunks got scuffed, you puffin’ on them dusted blunts
this life is just a cl-sterf-ck of cl-stered f-cks
these n-ggas done lost they soul, as cold as they come

[hook]
i need guidance, think i’m sick of tryin’
strict confinement, sick of lyin’
i think my spirit’s dyin’

[verse 2]
i heard a grounded soul got pounded on until his collar bone broke
piled upon, blokes too busy recordin’ it to dial the phone
stomped until reposed and paramedics couldn’t find a pulse
i asked why bystanders ain’t help, he said, “that’s how it goes”
i lost my faith in humanity and some friends and peers
rather chase they beer, instead of chase careers
spit what i feel til every hair in my beard’s covered in tears
we cohered, but they won’t hear just cause a big name isn’t there
my whole purpose was never clear
felt more worthless than being deaf with ears
blastin’ primal fear, drinkin’ belvedere
b-tch, i smile at parties but i am rarely there
is it me or should i permanently wear confetti gear?
make you warm inside, you ain’t see the warning signs?
i can treat these wh0r-s like slime, and they would even form a line
and that sh-t is fortified, until i treat em sorta kind
cause to them the biggest crime is just tryin’ to explore they mind
i hate you and i love to, make me wanna cut you
punch you in the stomach ’till your period is punctual
shoulda kept [?], only a couple months due
and you all up in the club to find another f-ck to fund you
silly -ss b-tches, wimpy -ss n-ggas
hit the gas until you split the dash of a pretty -ss pickup
i hate people cause y’all treat each other poor
i think i’ll like you better in a morgue

[hook]



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