Hook: Throw the match
We don't ever look back at the ash
Blood stains in my teeth
As I laugh
Walking through the fire whiskey
In my flask
My brother
Throw the match
My brother
Throw the match
Verse 1]: Milk's gone bad
Travel a lot
Mail piles up
And the apples will rot
The fickle wanna ask
If we can battle or not
I say unravel the knot
And a rattle will pop
Walk down the block
With a handful of rocks
Looking at Goliath
Like he cattle to prod
The sky is the limit
They can't handle the fog
If our van break down
We bringin' camels & dogs
Giddy up Divvy up all of the rations
Irrational
Pa**ion in casual
Fashion
You travel with snakes
Samuel Jackson
Actors with accents no actual rappin
The other day I threw
My ring in the ocean
& thanked god that I wrapped
It up in a Trojan
Heroes never look back at explosions
So we keep goin'
& never trust no one
Hook: Throw the match
We don't ever look back at the ash
Blood stains in my teeth
As I laugh
Walking through the fire
Whiskey in my flask
My brother
Throw the match
My brother
Throw the match
Verse 2 [Ft. P.O.S]:
I been burnt
Lit it
Hold it too long
Forget it
I ain't learnt
This whole sh**'s a mess
But f** it I'm with it
All my years
All my fears
Have come true
But nothing has k**ed me
Who are you?
LOL
At your face
sh** yeah
Come get me
My whole crew is made
Of monsters
We driven
How you been livin?
I stay riding
With some hell bent
On doing
We keep sh** moving
Ain't no use
Unless we cruise
With a view
That is truly
Worth looking at
Murder every sycophant
Serve the servants Ipecac
I'm barf incarnate
Hit alarms and
Carve a part to flee
I been starving just to eat you
My only purpose is free
Yeah
Barking up like every single tree
Wrong or right
If I die tonight
Just know I'm doing it
Extra in the Afterlife
Hook: Throw the match
We don't ever look back at the ash
Blood stains in my teeth
As I laugh
Walking through the fire whiskey
In my flask
My brother
Throw the match
My brother
Throw the match
Verse 3:
So much flavors
Like the mic of a dive bar
Throw the match
Follow through
With the side arm
Get money
f** critics
Make you a pie chart
Ain't gonna be a b**h
In record label side cars
No way no sir
Not a dodo
f** a pose
X-rays as the promo
Good to know
Drunk in a row boat
Need to find god
Still can't from my phone though
Direct in from my heart
To an XLR
Drop a flow
Leave the bar
With the smell of tar
Bed of stars in the sky
Yeah we set apart
Never put the fame
& the women
Ahead of art
Cut ties
Burn it down
Like it's Fort Mac
Rep Alberta
& the people
Who support that
All in with a bluff
And a short stack
Hoping that it doubles
Next time we report back