i'm on fire, i'm on fire me too, me too guns yo, i keep one in my pillowcase it keeps me safe when i sleep, still i keep awake what if my dream girl pays a midnight visit? i see the world thru the scope but i gain no insight with it when i get introspective i put the safety on make these songs with the biscuit sittin in my shaky palms i'm a man now (a real man) not the one who went to two colleges grovellin' over meal plans i'm starin' at the ceiling fan all wide-eyed amazed by the ways the blades break the silence i used to be afraid of firin' it sounded startling but now i'm starting to hate the quiet moments might remind you of a mike by the way i hold it (to the grill) a homophobic rapper unaware of the graphic nature of phallic symbols tragically ironic, suckin' off each others' gats & pistols i got more back issues than guns and ammo 'cause my oozy weighs a ton and i never let go of the handle hangin' on to mommy's pant leg double-fistin' knee-deep in shells kickin' ballistics this dick is a detachable penis an extension of my manhood positioned like a fetus an intravenous hook-up feeds bullets to my magazine nevermind the bullocks, my pistol is a sex machine guns yo (sex machine) bust it i got another gun (what) i keep it in my briefcase it keeps me safe at my workplace cubicle gangster who's in need of his personal space angster of love who's unable to look girls in his face 'cause i know that all the stupid people increase the birth rate i'm just about dumb enough to hold up a sperm bank make my demands and then facilitate fur trades empty the bird cage and release the mermaids huh i got a watergun i keep it in my mouth it keeps me safe from the things i like to speak about but words are leakin' out and all these smiles that i crack are like a dam on the verge of collapse there ain't no turnin' back in fact i can't hold down my fluids can't retract statements without water displacement flooded the basement then sought refuge removed my waterproof vest and then i kicked off my wet shoes made it to dry land pistol in hand fistfuls of ammo riding on a camel thru a desert of sand lucid dreams are a lot like computer screens people have pretentious conversations but i shoot the breeze blow a hole straight thru their long-winded theories hold my own and make songs for them to sing with me its the same type of heat that millie used to break the ice with santa claus when she made him sing the christmas blues capitalists strung her up for killin'em every manufactured holiday they sacrifice another victim before wartime depression sets in i get to step in and shoe shine my weapon i'm hemorrhoid, i'm the leader you're dead like dey la i hold my crotch like a nine-millimeter guns yo (i'm on fire) (me too) (nine-millimeter) (sex machine) Bu döküman AkorMerkezi.com'da yayınlanmıştır. http://www.akormerkezi.com