CunninLynguists - Castles lyrics

[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]