[Intro]
Oh yeah, it's time they come down...down
[Hook]
bu*terfly in the sky, I can fly twice as high
[Verse 1: Sadistik]
He said, "f** sobriety, d**h to the worker bees"
Thirteen circles I've stepped for eternity
Burning purple, stressed on a murder spree
It's self-inflicted, don't get it twisted
These knives in my back now, Elliott Smith(yeah)
Rides in the background, melodies fit (yeah)
Mixed with the misfits, fix is the hurt
When the lips that I kiss with press to the dirt
French-kiss vixens, distant and cursed
Burned bridges occurred from scriptin' my words
Word, so I'll chisel a verse
On these lie-filled halls that I've lived in and searched
I'm still lost in a head of catacombs
Cause I build walls like I'm Edgar Allan Poe
I've k**ed off every damsel that I know
For castles that I keep, castles that I know
[Hook]
[Verse 2: Deacon the Villain]
I'm having spirits in the dark, laying under moonlight
Laughing with a stranger, like I saved her from her doomed life
Pop a couple Percs, a perk of anonymity
Trapped within a curse that I created with my energy
A path that I rehearse, a cycle on repeat
Life is like a lion and I'm dying at its feet
I roll another sweet, check my muted Treo
I've seen them as the plot, too busy caught up in the B-roll
My eye up to the keyhole, scared to turn the knob
And go out on my own, instead I blend in with the mob
My memory bank's the only thing I tend to rob
And every time I phone the lob, I'm out of dodge
It's hard, on the boulevard, and other clichés
The type of bullsh** that I'm feeding self these days
Corrosion on my relays, one thing my mirrors chose
An imp in new clothes, exposed
[Hook]
[Verse 3: Aesop Rock]
I mow a dead lawn, aim for the alpha
Ten claws deck the halls of Valhalla
Not a man, a receptacle for crest-fallen matter
Never tempered or pressed into patterns
But just won't die, instead a palpitation from the plasma
Pumping disenchanting anecdotes and antiquated data at 'em
I get these headaches that climb down into my stomach
Then off into my extremities and out into the public
In a flood of shadow puppetry, something in the air
Got a tiny pool of energy becoming self-aware
It's recognizing family and alphanumeric characters
Scenery and deities with una**uming avatars
Close encounters exacerbate his condition
From cla**y to a bastion of cla**ic misdirection
Tune into the Casio adventures
When the rest of me can barely form a god-damn sentence
[Hook]