Track 2 of "Pouring Liquor Into Rivers"
bka "the Half Finished Chronicles of Left Foot McGee Pt. 1 "
a mixtape chronicled by Swanky Ali in the ghetto bootyhole of Atlanta
prod. by Slim Pickin's
lyrics
throw your hands in the air if you don't care
hands in the air if you don't care
alright stop lying stop lying
nothing is to be dismissed as normal
i ain't scared of dying but i'd be lying
if i told ya that i wasn't scared of
watching the possibility of my dreams being realized
dim down to nothing
holding on to hoping
is the only holy ghost that i know
cheerio to bomb's away
all in a day's work
and we wonder why the nights feel so lonely
thank god the bars and pornography
exist just for me
i'm noticing slowly
that i'm being steered to a state that's quite weird
where it isn't really clear what i can and can't feel
how my everyday appeal
is measured by imaginary ghosts
that i talk to with my thumbs on my cellular phone
i hope nobody here is telepathic
cause that could be disastrous
and i don't believe in passes
i'll be cheering 'em on
as they fast track a process
reducing me to ashes
now why am i convinced that my death is so real?
now how am i to answer all these questions that build
when i seal away my thoughts as embarrassing?
exchange details of my stories with some labels you'll agree with
life is just one big metaphor for love (x4)
i think the internet is a tool for observation
of humans
for the ones who depend on the swaying
of said human psyches'
to feel powerful enough to fight death
a subtle science to destroying shit
especially if that shit is thinkin'