Letras
From the venom pit slipped in that belly hear it two time
Moonshine slapped down the neck of him really
He keep it too kind, saddle up keep it boot high
Matters they took a turn for the worst that not so good kind
Kiddie he back brash and intact with a slight flu-type
Nose been sniffling piggies they found me odor
But probably not the brume, I meddle in more menacing
Measures that all in due time thread in them loose needles see
The grift thinning the strand of that base tremble like its too nights
Striked till dooming and gloom ringing its
Seasoned in them seas where them calendars halt any sort
Prophetic reason its often the case seasonally
Maker maker she x em and close it too tight
Mother mother sorry them peasants they know
Little to nothing bout slight holiness picking them dead bowls while they
Whistling who told on em, victim them poor vultures i pity a tad too
But I couldn't really fathom the actions of them pathetic types too
How they wishing for the fall of them fallen since eyes knew
That's the part where it gets funny and most of them cons fuse to that
Snake oil flooding the streets
They want to see me gone way before I can peak
I tried to make a sound but they mock when I speak
It's hard to make a change by the end of the week
They wailing and whine too
Why they acting like them really in peril and plight due to it
The state of the mind glued
they been fizzing taking hits of the metal and fried fumes
It is quite silly busy how lads foil in
Slight stimies fuel up the whole sense of it
See really them puppies
Is just testing the wave rhythm and braving where storms settle
It's quite evident most of them souls cling to it
Bean doing all of the promise them blokes feed to him
Sheep been moving the patch of that old seed grew
Talk a sweet tune how them peasants they all fiend to that
Snake oil flooding the streets