Silas Fiction - Blue Printed lyrics

(Sam Boice verse) ... Been had a tat from that needle in the hay stack Of me with that needle while I'm chilling on the hay stack Weed enabled keep me paced like race tracks Not used to saving souls that's stuck up in the hay stack What is that just face facts Think we ain't on feel the pitch fork from the hay stack Words galore I was born up in that record store Birds on they first flight was me when I was stepping out the door Now I sore new heights Sort of like Iron Mike Write my own raps See no need to bite Used to cyanide so why add fries to appetite Verbal destruction is my function Superbad them other dudes McLovin It's nothing we something Feel the rap vibe So you know its smoke one that you bumping we coming With a thousand bars and running Hear the drones when they be humming Dropping bombs when they be buzzing Taking cover in the caves Bombs don't discriminate They burn and disintegrate Turn hay into ashes What's cash when you lonely in the mansion And when you still think that greed's a good companion Find ya soul before you too old Use your brain and imaginate and create a world to behold