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 f*ck 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 f*ckin' 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, f*ck 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, f*ck it can't lie
It's been like 2, 4, 6, 25 bitches f*cked
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 f*ck
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 f*ck
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, f*cked up of depressive bev
(I can't even encourage me)

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