Technicolor Dream

(Julio: Shit's gonna kill you, man! - The Lieutenant: What the fuck are you? A drug counsellor... or a drug dealer? If you don't deal your own product, what kind of businessman are you?) [an excerpt from Bad Lieutenant]

Anomaly, hit captains wack in Boston
The caddy back, hookers like Ono's twin, whacking off the king
I live in Anton's trap, painted black with offerings
Keep children trapped for torturing
I bring bags along of tabs for songs to sing
Under an inverted hook cross from rings
Process human fat like animal shortening
I drive a ?? Audi
I'm in a fucking food market, drinking milk from the aisle
Big Labowsky

Hand me the bong, ink in the welches, candy with john
Cult rocking canteen and vohn
I tried suicide, I'm a mess now, paralyzed from the neck down
Belt around my neck now
Hand me the bong, ink in the welches, candy with john
Cult rocking canteen and vohn
I tried suicide, I'm a mess now

I'm the best out
Drug carrying, like Marion buried with escorts
Dumping sket salts
Wrapped in hotel blankets skinned to the red sauce
Nixon mask, making the tecs talk
Kick down your painted black red doors
Home invasions make headstones from bed boards
My house like a mess hall
Commune his trained radicals
Black robes and red shorts
Rifles and alters
Head full of order like a dead corpse
My house parties like the morgue next door
There's cotton heads on my dead lawn
Choked by ??
Passed out on percocet whores
Give me the best raw
I'll take his head off and put it in a hat box and jet off
Reach into his chest squeeze his heart in my hands like a stress ball

Chorus