kig v2 - med.u.s.a. lyrics
[intro]
give me a reason, (6x)
(yeah, i been sick of this sh-t, been sick of this sh-t
yeah i been sick of this sh-t
sick of this sh-t, been sick of this sh-t, i’m sick of this sh-t
yeah, i been sick of this, sick of this sh-t, i’m sick of this sh-t
yeah, i been sick of this sh-t)
gimmie a reason, dammit!
reason (4x)
(didn’t—f-ck…)
[verse 1]
didn’t mama teach you bout that att-tude?
divot karma with haggled blueprints
i must be mad at you, sh-t, (motherf-ckers wanna know–)
g-grat-tude a past, but pal, w-what’s the damage?
how it do? you famished
d-ck sandwich
f-ck outta here, twitchy lip
don’t be lookin’ at me for sh-t
calling me late, i tweak my wrist
s-solitude day, i tweak for fix
b-bullsh-t speak, as meek i get
rise from fate, won’t weep at predicament
slit, slit, slit, (ayy-yah!)
wisp all you make out from my break out
christen a filleted sound, bristle at the tame jowls
p-ssed with my the cape out, ripping through the fake shroud
f-cking the fake, man f-ck all the fake
[bridge 1]
actually, let’s–
let’s run this sh-t back
i wanna go harder
i wanna bust the man
i wanna bust the medicine out (slap a band-aid on that b-tch!)
i wanna bust a nuuuuuut (aye, aye!)
(run this sh-t back…run this sh-t back…)
(slap a band-aid on that b-tch, yah?
hmm…boo-boo?)
(shouldn’t have to tell you twice…parsley)
(slap a band-aid on that b-tch, yah!)
-garbled noises-
(rah-rah, rah-rah!) (4x)
(ice, ice, ice)
(ay-ay, ay-ay)
(okay, okay, okay, okay!)
(kak-kak)
(ya-yah…hey!) (2x)
[verse 2]
ain’t cake sh-t tryna renaissance man
i ate sh-t climbing the rock-wall trap
attention in deficit, vacant marathon jammed with
raiment dying–mothball that
echelon to the pentagon
our sins, diamondin’
sins, lobbyin’
wrist, coughin’ it
ears, hymen dead
fears, lying us
tears, drying up
slip, crime stuck
cyst, filled with
terrible thoughts, grows over tempo’ lobe
hysterical response, know i 10-4 that, dog (no more)
f-ckin’ did my time, take the ransom off (no more, no more, no more)
em’ti ta’a’fi “life,” rake a plan ‘til fall
a’aight?
‘rilla glue, bring planter full (no more, no more, no more)
“the sky wilts to your beck and call,”
gotta rep it, though
evidence of definiteness in self-acceptance
h-ll, or headless, though
dismiss asepsis
antiseptic
in the plexus
of my melon
repet-tion
checkboxes
i “x” ‘em
get my presents
bill money–let’s get me some real money
creativity feel sluggish, i must get that real money
that steal, k!ll, feel-for-real money
that feel-for-real money, man…
[bridge 2]
yeah!
yeah, i been sick of this sh-t, been sick of this sh-t
yeah, i been sick of this sh-t
sick of this sh-t, sick of this sh-t, i’m sick of this sh-t
yeah, i been sick of this sh-t
sick of this sh-t, been sick of this sh-t
yeah i been sick of this sh-t…
(stunt, stunt!)
[verse 3]
my girl ain’t evil
don’t look at me, though
ja’voii on that creep-slow
erode ‘til jug remote, muster revolt
divulge lingo
oak bucket, old king go
pinko olive gringo custer sheeple
reload
pills for the shills, feel good, yah
devil shook, but the deal still stood, yah
grillin’ a meal, fl!ck of the tongue, yeah
head-heels pushed, rippin’ the lung, yeah
lifting my rung
missing for fun
hiss and i strike at ya jit with a mic
nibble the hype while the sh-t suck my life
ice meat sacks–might ya tell where the meet at?
delightful discharge for a smart -ss
make’em artifacts
f-ck stars to map
one point four hours’ sleep, per hour
tilling landlord’s fields for a l!ck of flour
f-ck this
bill money, (d-l-l-l)
bill money, (poof)
bill money…
[bridge 3]
cricket sound-effect…
(may i flex, may i flex, may i flex, huh?)
[verse 4]
when the laughs drag out
when the lights die down, and
there is no more art?
paralysis…
-gasp-
when nothing shocks
you miss your cot
the happiest memories, dark…
paralysis, paralysis—
i try and take a walk, but, time won’t p-ss at all
i try and talk to god, but, they’re tired too
my own cigarette fumes annoy the sh-t out of me
no will to even leave
no chill, no easy sleep
i wish for pills, i wish for greed
i wish for gills to sink at sea
i wish for love, i wish to hate
f-cking dumb, let’s m-st-rbate
music’s great, but concerts drain
no muse for me, i rooted for pain
but not numbness
i try and mature with these crumbling functions
eyes, sunken
energy, suctioned
lie there, drunken
sunk by -ssumptions my l-sts are presumptuous
by sultry, tongue-less
disfunctional f-ck-wits
rusty rudders, at the junction of what’s old, and what’s untold
i love to hear the deductions
they make from in the box
collating their c-cks
sword fighting, their jobs
none of this shocks me
i miss my cot with mommy
the purest oceans of my thoughts, made salty
so with these pesticides of petty lies, i see my life is now petrified…
‘til to the throng, with t–th…(ah!) (ah!)
‘til to the throng, with t–th
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