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jak tripper - things change lyrics

“at one part of my life i had k!lled people for nothing, just for somebody to look at me wrong i would k!ll them. stab them, shoot them.”
“what did you want them to think as they died?”
“to see my pretty face.”

if i go pop it’s v-g-n-s on the stove top
i’m bugging like busey when the blows gone
my goons lurched out with black cones on
bodies missing for so long the skeletons are found in the woods with cloths on
tongue dissolving zoloft
just to load glocks my hand like short cross on eleven
in rochester when the chromes p-wned ?? your marks
bones popped, blood clots back up veins and breathing holes clogged
flow is nuts but child murder isn’t close enough
i have both olsen’s stuffed
apartment, comb the bugs
go back visit decomposed
take the head go home comb the bugs
hookers opened up, eviscerated from throat to c-nt
first two i was throwing up
now i don’t even know how many i’ve unclothed and done

things change, i went from doing drugs to doing further things
change, i went from robbery to s-xual murder
things change, i went from doing drugs to doing further things
change, i went from robbery to s-xual murder
things change, i went from just rapping to living nightmares
things change, i’m on the f-cking run see if i care

bones are rolled in mud
hitchhikers rolled in rugs, discarded
thrown from whips into a ditch on the side of the road cut up
if she’s so stuck up, i’m going bagging, i’m going back in
tricks half alive in the p-ssenger side, seat absent
roped gagged and skull matted
hand-cuffed, 75 woolen ski mask, tan volkswagen
i’m an old cl-ssic
if they’re on the stroll and go flagging
i’ll stop the chase, leave junkie hoes stone dragons
death tolls m-ssive
heads in my backyard in shallow graves showing like i grow cabbage
i play house in a robe, trying to hand feed a stolen actress
straight out of grangeville
before home invasions we dunk bread in blood and break gills
upstate new york lakeville
seizuring on plains ill like lil wayne’s grill
awaken, i take eight 10’s
mixture a grey bread
slurring like wayne bent
crystal base stem
two boxes of bullets dumped in a playpen

- jak tripper lyrics

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