Sage Francis - Love, Love, Love lyrics
Rippin' at the seams, ready to bust, It's like one mississippi, two mississippi, rush. Fiend smiffin' mine, at the scrimmage line I got the drug game and game of life all intertwined So I sit behind the sensei and study state of mind I chase the line with loaded needles and blaze a kinda come down Instead I chase the dragon, sun up to sun down, With no guns, just lungs set to collapse, Hey yo, run rocked rhymes and [?] john wrecked raps Get back, I stalk my ex same as a Simpson And leave her damaged goods like the financial district Can I, kick it with gold feet, from upstate to george beach Anonymous john, though stupid f**, nobody knows me Act like we're homies, I'll change the whole style up OCD got my head in a ten-car pile up Rock paper drop the money and pick the file up I'm meltin' rocks for research, how to die quick f** a sidekick, gettin' wrapped up in violence Bullet to the brain, pull it sound of silence Let's paint the room with my memory Paint me an effigy Shoot me up with smallpox and leprosy Yo cousin, no need to disguise it At night I'm drinkin vials of the west nile virus [Chorus:] Love (for raw rhymes and breaks) Love (for no books and crates) Love (for however long it takes) [Sage] I never chose the path of least resistance [?] know the math and keep the distance Forever go back to speakin' without conviction I don't respect the craft if they couldn't know the difference Dig this, this is a full time love affair Part time s**ers, they come unprepared Like as if this was a mistress, for them to f** around with This ain't no means of income it's an outlet (outlet) Now the counterfeit cash clans get thrown out in the trash can Internet b-boys are doing a flash dance Audio sound scans, audience claps hands Funky cos I never dummied it down for the rap fans But what's up with the forced vernacular? f** gangster talk, do an AIDS walk through Africa Boasting a Porsche but can't afford a Maxima, Your song's full of chorus, you still think you a rapper huh? In with the out crowd, down with the upper echelon I'll be a handy man once my legs are gone And I feel like hell on wheels Seeking salvation any place that sells hot meals Teflon steel, touch tone phones and tin cans Recycling bins and get-rich-quick scams I just, ripped my pants on the last fence I jumped And look I gave the washed up just wasn't intense [?] Trust I'm workin' on it, the girl called it quits Heard her talkin' sh** like I ain't there, I ain't care and life ain't fair Well guess what baby, life ain't and them's the breaks [Chorus]