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Correct Christ In A Vice Lyrics
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Rozz Dyliams
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Correct Christ In A Vice
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Yeah olivetti underwood from under the bed Vol um ross (Super Shaman) I still can’t cry on the spot But compared to be four Now I cry a lot Stay fried fill glass pipe with pot Mix liquid ingredients first Then add the dry on top Mood stabilizer scripts Like it or not I get so high that even though I don’t know where I am I know that I’m by the top And the rhyme don’t stop I’m getting married to a noose next week we’ll officially tie the knot Exhale fiberglass lung wheeze Junk sick Trying to find the pod My real ness is tied up in my mental illness Fuck trying to find a job I wanna jump off the side of a building And land on spikes and rocks I needed to come back home This is depression land And I’m the God I crash like Darby March the soul Plant the germ inside the flock On stage expression stoic To give the impression I don’t like to rock At my farewell show I’ll end my career with a rifle shot I roam Seneca county and post up in a nice old squat Hollow vetti portable The shitty manuscript That I’m trying to shop Hobo journalist with train lines to hop When I drop its like I put Christ in a Vice til’ he pops Were programmed to suffer But not simply designed to just stop Brutal technique as a writer Instigate fights in a cypher Delicate and precise off the top Fuck the law stab a knife in a cop Too many people on earth and I’m trying to wipe them all off My old journal entries Give me the heebie jeebies I drop shit like G G Shadows dance in the lowlight of the hall I remember my peers and I were small I frightened them all I live life like I can’t function without syliciban Intertwined with a pile of raw I’m hell on earth live! Ice will devolve I’m on top of your head like lice And flyer than a bonzai pilot is all I listen to my old music and don’t know why I’m applaud At venues before sets in the bathroom alone with a knife in the stall Getting hype with it yall Lyrical Jesus with a stab on the side of my torso And a big slice in my palm When I’m alone I punch myself right in the jaw I stay up into the night im til it falls Craft hour Smash a bunch of smashed up powder Insomniac as I stack racks I laugh louder Right for the harvest Pluck me off of the vine before I rot I’m coming out the hardest Yeah yeah yeah yeah Dylan Ross 2012.. Uh..late 2012.early 2013 Super Shaman Super Shamanistic ways Uh..I..I’ve did Goat Skull this is kinda like You might even wanna think of this as a Goat Skull part two I’ve got goat skulls upon goat skulls I got stacks on stacks of Goat Skulls y’know what I’m sayin’ Some private journal entries that are no longer private no what I’m saying Plus, the footnotes You bitches better check the footnotes That’s the new raps I’m kicking now Is I’d like to see you Try to be you And step to me ya’ll
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