Jak Tripper - Silver Tar lyrics

"He be saying, he be doing real wicked stuff. He does real nerd stuff. And then the lord says to him, Cast off one's skin. And shift wind." "Supercoven sh** man. Jak Tripper. Bring that sh** in man." Yo these kids made me spawn They tried to pick my brain apart, but they say it's like a cave explored Haven't made it back from vaca, long stays since I ate the frog Stay indoors, taking cake from brawds Bait the fonze Stranglation, their face stay the yawn Drag the wasted off Drag their vacant corpse across the hallway into the adjacent door By the lake they found eight or more The audience size live, much like the spectators of Gacy's lawn Desperate addict, k**ing for highs, I go crazy for Raiding morgues, robbing vet clinics and rabies wards They say it's always the patients fault I told em I felt sick but they gave me more (As life descends ?? ??, of antichrist. Stand by the ?? tower, 18 dynamite, with tags and bags of ?? chicken and cold chips, telling their dreams of life for no money. Money is a sin." So I popped the last scripts, said bye to mom and paps with the last kiss Watch the ma** lift, bones and bottled ashes The sh** I'm on would make Albert Fish turn in his toppled casket Missing models from college pagents Found with their nostrils bashed in Dump sites prolific like Donald Gaskins I watch college cla**es Evening with night vision goggle gla**es Let's all ride the block I couldn't tell you what level I was on What I did to those girls was mortifying But you couldn't tell me that when I putting her nylons on (On, Back on her body) I'd jump a fire rings on carcauses piled to the hills cried the gods f** writers block What I lug is heavy than ?? china blocks Tend to the sheep, I'll k** entire flock Milligrams kind of subside and calm Fillet the herd to thai food Sell their guts hung up on wires propt Writer's log My mind's a swamp With the house in the middle sinking on it's side I only did dope cause I tried to nod Whispers and wines won't stop They cry for red tides to wash Fingernail tips chipped off on kitchen tile rod Tied to unidentified foreign body fiber bonds The dead still tied to watch The rush winds my clock Bleach new remains rubbed entire bomb If you think these are just rhymes they're not