LORD LOONEY - Smoke & Shadows lyrics

[Verse 1: LORD LOONEY] Cause the weed took my best friend Took a year, up to here 'til the mess end It appear to do sh** for depression Yet the music a useful tool to invest in too Rust stains on the razorblades That's what they say to Mom when she raises a- Eyebrow or two, when you hide in the gloom All the blinds in the room are down, I a**ume You gaze into space, and you plague in the pain And you pray for the same thing: a day of amazement A feeling of gain, still baked in the basement Wonder where the f** all the pain or the days went? Gun pressed to the crest of my head Maybe love will take effect when the restroom is red And I never even rest when I rest in my bed So it's best if I nest in the guestroom again No pen, no hope- It came to be... Cause there ain't no cake in the 803 It's a lotta false face in the 803 It's a lotta bald hate in the 803 And I kinda lost faith in the 803 And I kinda stopped waiting on the 803 Got a mind to hock hate at the 803 Then I realize all this is fate It's paved for me [Hook: Anonymous Owls] Love Though it wrecks and amuses It only comes true when it stems from the music Hate It dwells in my senses Pencil me a check for a cell in the sane head Pain It grows from the hunger Of f**in' the game, chuckin' blame 'til the sun up And love Only know it exists When a puddle comes up as it flows from your wrists X2 [Verse 2: LORD LOONEY] From a city where the music dips Like the crews that'll usually do the sh** And if you ain't got a crucifix around your neck Your kind loses; get crucified against I don't call myself a Christian I call myself a human And life's a selfish mission To question what we're doing What if we never find the answers And the whole thing is useless I glide in panoramas As I hope I soak in lupus... The school kids' stupid, never stooped to 'em Too busy movin' a pendulum induced rhythm Get 'em son, Poppa dubbed- Me upper to the popular Soppin' up the rotten thoughts And drop 'em in the prophet's cup- Pretentious, never been the goal A menace, been the cynical- Ripper of the centerfold- Since I felt the inner glow- Dribble out as I grew up Fiddle doubt as I threw up- My middle finger, spittle out- A riddle, bit 'em, k**ed the doubt Appear a bit lost in the nonsense... Ear to the conch, it's the sound of my conscience Pounding at the launch pad, watch this- Wonder where the cops at? Not missed Suffice with a tendency to coward And I never count stacks, but I'm stacking up a counteract f** life, and everything about it Shout that from the mountaintop ya'll surrounding at... [Hook: Anonymous Owls] (repeat)