Jak Tripper - Exhaust lyrics

I'm in this b**h odd as f**, still feeling what I took in the car Driver side fall out, embalmed like what I put in cigars You getting bombed like Bush and Islam You looking at Nam, I'm in the bush like the Cong Rush cells like turtle shells when I pull in the arms (they don't get it, Valhalla man) Yeah, I'm in a world of fire, hot bars like curling irons co*ked arms like a juice head Squat bars, curling iron Pop off so much heat, curl the iron Heat to his brim, curl his visor Watch his brain hurl on sideburns Dolo home invasions, forensics are saying the girl had died first Slit throat cold, with your world beside her Found the pride deep in her eyes and cut out the pearl inside her Then go listen to Burl Ives by myself in a new Berlin Diner More faces than Chris Hagan, turtleneck, shades, close shave and with curls like Wilder I stay fat and corrupt behind these bars spitting that Lou Pearlman fire (There are over 7 million mentally ill and emotionally disturbed children in America. This program is about some of those children and the institutions they live in. Children of darkness.) [the intro of Children of Darkness an Oscar nominated 1983 documentary by Richard Kotuk] Still Cambodian, canned the heat fire Cantonese tiger, window panes, tabs and sheets Hand 'em these The flow is straight Saint Anthony's fire I strangle teens, bash in teeth wires Opium champ, fans rush in, in a trance You know how damp the dust is My head's a box a claustrophobic couldn't stand up in I pull the van up, hand's clutch clips My whole band bust zigs Using your head as a cabinet to throw cans up in These groupies run their mouth til this hand touch limbs Forensics pulling that missing girl's hair strands tucked in