Grim Hours

Word to my mother's tears
Look what the drugs can do
I was a troubled youth
Alcohol hiccup bubbles blew
Diggin' in your stomach's food
I'm fucked up on that syrup
And I'm seeing more than one of you
Tongue is blue
Huffin' spray paint
Drunk from fumes
Gun barrel in your mouth like a beer funnel tube
You cats wanna spit talk shit
And smoke a blunt or 2
I came to take the flesh off of your body
And wear it in front of you
Hydroplane off of your blood in pools
I don't want to shake hands
Or hug with you
I want to leave this battle
Go strap on camo-
Come back later and hunt for you
I don't want to just see you give up, son
I want you to get both of your lungs removed
I'll do it for a buck
And some jungle juice
The way I look and spit'll puzzle dudes
I look
Kind of
Ill
Uh ... 'cause ... I
Chugged a ton of shrooms
I kill prostitutes
And rush 'em back home like, "Supper soon!"
I'll find the hiding spot
Where your bright soul is
You don't want to get in my mind when it's wide open
It's like
Walking inside of a minefield blindfolded
Burn pines
In-turn lines
Leave white oaks split
"Who spits goon like?"?
My rhymes ogrish
On some child-eating giant oak shit
Silence 45s out the ride -- smokin
Till this audience looks like a red dyed ocean
Coughin' up resin out of the lungs
Torchin' mountains of bud
Smoke a pound in a blunt
Who's high?
My head's a planet with clouds and a Sun
Bodies washed up on the sound missing tongues
Oh no he didn't, soaking prescription
You can smell the tablet when I'm pissing
1-O-O-O litted
I can stay focused Robo-tripping

(Will you please wait until my son Jak returns? That's all I'm asking you to do.)
(That good for nothing son of yours will never come back.)