sin7ven – flies in his stomach lyrics
[hook]
in silence, i can hear the buzzing
flies crawl and frolic, trying not to vomit, ‘s like
i’d like my mind to clear and function
lights off, his pockets light, scoffs sardonic spite
[verse 1]
i feel my hands tremble as i leave the cl-ss, temple
burning, churning stomach, vomit stirring, sir
i’m fine, heart on my sleeve, wear a lot of turncoats
slurring words, early bird, paradox a wormhole
terracotta urn flow
headphones blaring out the pharoahe monch – internal
affairs, trying to turn diurnal, screw it
eyes purple, staring in the rhyme journal, lucid
head spinning maybe from the stressing mess
should i even try to make it to the lesson
yes? oh, guess so, head low, running through
hallways, all day, headphone plug is loose
klepto, stealing all this thunder
keeling over slumber so he feeling low and under
scheming on the dola, hope i’m meeting all the quota
soma bleeding on the sofa, ceiling weeping on my coda, leaking
[hook]
[verse 2]
next morning, stretch yawning, wanna fly a rocket ship
to mars and shit like f-ck the world and father the apocalypse
solipsist, in squalor sits upon biggest ball of spit
somber, pale, undertale talking y’all can call him frisk
cuz, i keep dying and stuff
lighter fluid doesn’t do it, someone fire me up
acquire a tire iron and knock some sense in me
the ride on the bus quiet across the dense city
idly watch vipers and doves, my head dizzy
and mind in the mud, lights from a cop reflect pretty
inside of the bus, trying to stay – awake
brain makes a break, flying away – to space
stray cat crossing the road
met a maybach, flames crack, coughing the smoke
and the stray cat, pace black paws in the snow
cat’s posture, it froze, when the flame lashed monster approached
[hook]
[verse 3]
i jerk into awareness, almost missing my stop
barely walking, hauling legs across the thick of the fog
make it to the gates and wade through all the giggling mobs
skips in my odd memories often imprison my thoughts
and i find myself in places that i didn’t know i went to
fidgeting the filter spitting rhythm flowing phlegm through
trying make it to cl-ss and jazz
a kind of deja vu p-ss and i half think i’m going mental
the teacher asks how my summer was
i wonder what to tell her when the bell repel my tongue and thus
all of us depart for lunch but i’m bothered by the question
psyche trembling slightly, right, this summer was…
i – can’t remember, something strange occurs
faces blur, i pull the boxcutter out and pace unnerved
point the blade impatient at the shape changing
students on all fours that crawl towards my legs before i p-ss out
[outro]
then i remember lights and sirens playing d-mn loud
and i woke up to the smell of black coffee, in a white room…
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