Ba**nectar - Elevator Music lyrics

Elevator Music Chorus We just want to get high… elevators x 3 Come and elevate us [Verse 1:ForestPunk] Sunshowers, young cowards and thug battlers Gun powder, rush hour for drug traffickers n***as flippin the birds, eagle somersaults Or like those fingers raised when you screamin' f** em' all Churches and liquor stores that border the block are scary Corner apothecaries say order is watchin' wary Cars is cruising through armed with suitable trig' poppers “bring home the bacon” “these aren't yo usual pigs momma” Naaahh, these narcs and cubicles give offers Topsy turvy, pharmaceutical spin doctors The smoking gun is s** pistols when johnies rotten For that opium, meth crystals and oxycontins Chorus [Verse 2:ForestPunk] Im just a little stoner blazin' Trying to bring motivation for this whole hopeless nation A bunch of young n***as and they wearin' oldish faces Theres some sharks in the water on this stupid floatin' slave ship They trying 2 make our red hearts die So Im walkin on the sky till the d**h stars fried Doctor says he can tell when their heads are high Cuz their brains got wings on their MRI's Hopeless stoners is smoking douja in stone pagodas Enough to give ya dome a coma like an O of soma You see its dro and soda, weed and c**a cola If life is but a dream then you need to row ya boat up Merrily merrily, very deep clarity The rarest geeks will scare police the errors seen on glaring screens Because apparently this era's seeped in terror, please Kids in asylums when half they parents need therapy CHORUS I just wanna get high, they wanna bring me down x8 3rd verse Youth slept pillowed heads in alleyways, truths dead silhouette Car chases, cali days , bootleg cigarettes Narc agent baseball, misfits fight cops Street guys get 3 strikes for pitchin' white rocks Hearts is black, smart and mad with bad sickness Cash digits make you start from scratch like rash itches If there's vast riches, can a man look honest? When many ask for spare change, cuz' Sam Cook promised… Its fare game and that's hustle dammit! Cash bundles handed I bite the fingers that feed me a bra** knuckle sandwich Earnest merrymen Are really coroners cuz' dead presidents are worthless carrion So we flip em the bird where deserts eagles peck y'all A cup of joe is juxtapose to a pep talk on ya d**h walk These days when I'm rappin' I let history's screenplay be a keepsake for the trash bin CHORUS