Cynical Cycle Lyrics

[Verse 1]

Come on, hop all aboard, on my track to absence

Here, take some absinth

It sends mad chills, and thrills from a brew

And a stog or two

Nigga now guess who, like red and blue

And I rock em' sock em' till I drop dead Mark

So fuck my larynx right mark

Poor little Lorax

The centrifugal force is becoming so difficult

And I'm flipping half decent for things that don't seem to flip the reciprocal

Just be easy man, and appease the needy

It's like a blind eye treaty

With two pennies on my foals

Hoping for jesters and jokers to take me to Styx

Ha, I got jokes now

But I'm still floating down this deep motion

But the E is floating away

The spokes between the tube and you today

Teach tikes to take it irrational

While daddy's bashing trash that is thrashing

Down the long cylinder platinum

Long cylinder flashin' em'

While I am parallel sitting back

Sipping on my cup of Henny and I'm laughing at them

Irony is radical, but how sad is it though that

I can't even complete the full 360

And I'm fuckin' my head up with all these demented thoughts

Man I feel so empty nigga

And I'm trying to transfuse into this new improvement

But Tim Allen's at my home now, and Santa's feeling hella useless ho (ho x2)

Rock to my dark cynical cycle, (cycle( x3))

Let's hold on to the grips

See the chain is kinda loose so we might slip

Slit our wrist, fuck it start the next day though

The Cycle is so vicious



[Verse 2]

And I'm popping the puss of this sus scenarios

(oohh) It's kinda scary though

How loud my beam screams for the balance

And the challenge is just to stick it in

Yeah, maybe for you niggas, fuck it can't lie

It's been like 2, 4, 6, 25 bitches fucked

300 Oz of that brown liquor flagged, upped and chucked

And a centuries worth of green sticks down

And now happen to cancel it out with the cancer ones

Nicotine fit, you dumb fuck

Oh my god, stop, wait

I'm not a bad kid, I just make bad decisions, alright

It's been from diapers, to disciples with the mammy

That I grew a few screws and tied them tight

Then I counteracted with the mannerisms

And I'm the product of the family

I be coming home late at night, stoned as fuck

And I'm running to pick up the pickup truck

Repo my heart again

Shipping and handling lines, to pick up the rest

And the custody's there, the cardiac rest

But the brain is insane

And I'm fighting a mirror, feel it in my veins Joe

Man I'm oh so vain

The pain the pain, the plane, the plane

So here comes the thunder

Sahara dry

With a wet dick, and momentary gain of the clarity

For the more monotonous, topic less

Day in and day out shit, the outfits I'm wearing

Are getting me hot like Auschwitz

Zyclon B, just want to get me and my niggas on the board

Bill, kill that nigga when I see him

With my Puma

Uma in the Puma shoes

Montezuma drinks all 3 of us

While my third eye wipes its crust fool

Man I'm seeing dust

And then it just blinks

Repeating the cycle

And I open up the god givens

While I creep and crawl to peak and see

If there's a door key discouraging my furnace

And I flourish filled with doubted sweat

Fill it in a cup, fucked up of depressive bev

(I can't even encourage me)