stank face records - the volume lyrics
[chorus: vantablac sol]
they dyin’ in the street a lot
they tryin’ to keep the streak alive
they obviously forget they values
the story demoralize
you always see four or five kids on their porches shot
the volume needs a little raising
raising these kids to be great
grapes turn to raisins, and i’m still tryin’ to make wine
still tryin’ to make time
chasing a dream
there’s always someone tryin’ to take mine
[verse 1: vantablac sol]
i seriously could take a life
i should take life seriously
drop you by the lakeside
make a nice conspiracy
maybe i need therapy
something in the air i breathe
need prosperity
god for my security
god forbid i do something that might need forgiveness
maybe i need some limits
maybe i need a minute, tick tick
[?] down to a single day
bow our heads, let us pray
say that everything’s okay
but it’s not, i need a paper towel
nose running bl++dy
my brain’s running out
all on the cement
where everybody can see it
maybe i need treatment
i know what the tree meant
when the apple falls, either rap or play basketball
that’s what am i stuck in between with?
the grave? the prison?
twenty+five to life, won’t make it to twenty+five living
[chorus: vantablac sol]
they dyin’ in the street a lot
they tryin’ to keep the streak alive
they obviously forget they values
the story demoralize
you always see four or five kids on their porches shot
the volume needs a little raising
raising these kids to be great
grapes turn to raisins, and i’m still tryin’ to make wine
still tryin’ to make time
chasing a dream
there’s always someone tryin’ to take mine
[verse 2: terminal knowledge]
itching for a fix
twisted up a swish
wish that i lived in ignorant bliss
but it isn’t ever an option
this sh+t is getting obnoxious though
extinction is upon us, apocalypse is approaching
if you can comprehend the notion
drift with some continentals
shifting some tides in the ocean
uh, would you keep the boat rocking?
cold+c+cked his opponent
he cheated though, like keyshia cole, sugar
i’m sweet with no sugar
decomposing looks much worse than it is
leave foes shook like cartons of orange juice
the fourth stooge poke you in your third eye
words rhyme when i speak ’em
curved spine, sure sign of a demon
term climb on the ceiling
the worst kind of appealing
cl!ck+clack, peeling your wig back
snapping your paddy+whack
and stealing your knick knacks too
it’s that ruthless
[chorus: vantabloc sol]
they dyin’ in the street a lot
they tryin’ to keep the streak alive
they obviously forget they values
the story demoralize
you always see four or five kids on their porches shot
the volume needs a little raising
raising these kids to be great
grapes turn to raisins, and i’m still tryin’ to make wine
still tryin’ to make time
chasing a dream
there’s always someone tryin’ to take mine
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