Busdriver - Ego Death lyrics

rate me

ft. Aesop Rock, Danny Brown

Yeah, I understand what you're saying, but is it sexier than torture?

We can make this better

We can make this better

We can make this better

Under the sun I laid, defied the night

I slip miniature mantras between my cries and gripes

Jewel-flavored crystals in the red, blue, and white stripes

While craps numbers at me like the price is right

And downtime is never met with an overjoyed grin

‘Cause sleep and death have always been conjoined twins

You'd rather lick the …of pop art

A… cement field, a Pac march

The withering tendrils from my wrought heart

Reach for a Benadryl like it was a lost ark

‘Cause my average day is for the body features and… seizures

We cry to these seniors, living a side of splotchy Adidas

Serving consecutive sentences

My corrective lenses is ruby quartz

You're my bitch and ain't worth a jiggling of booty warts

Circumstances trap writers like high debates

Underneath a colorized happy face

Or a carbon copy done in candy paint

Or so the nanny say if it's a diaper rash

I'm pinging this on a cyber-cast

Questioning news items, playing patty cake with an hourglass

The fact that this ponny show's racist

Thirsty colloquial cake mix charges the homeostasis

Of all the homies who await us like we're some Smokin' Joe Fraziers

But my unchecked whining's like some ceremonial plate shift

We can make this better, or not, yes, we will

We're just looking for something inside us to kill

We can make this better, or not, yes, we will

We're just looking for something inside us to kill

We can make this better, or not, yes, we will

We're just looking for something inside us to kill

We can make this better

Before long, oil the bombs

A little celery chop

A little pepper, a little milk and a poppy

Little posse in effect

Analog mono-poly man of war

Walloping the auto-poly avatar

Mind on his Mallomars

Money on the iron lung

Clumsy with the can of worms

Usher you behind the sun

He shoots the whores, truly stupid troubadours and elders

Stock the shelter with three holdies and blueberry New York Seltzers

Roll up in a… like a doofus

Hit the corner like the devil is incubus

I'm ruthless, deciduous dog with a cone feeling foolish

Seven hells calling all foreseeable futures

Be an obtained culprit

Crippling migraine and strange stomach

Or a stray bullet through his gray mullet

I am ivy up the goddamn ladders

March to the math rock

Raw, no cartoon mascot

The Mario pajama, bottoms clumsily rappelling

Under a gibbous moon

Hunting for shitty food

Gunning, too tough, embedded in bad magic

Duckboy, shit is quacktastic

We can make this better, or not, yes, we will

We're just looking for something inside us to kill

We can make this better, or not, yes, we will

We're just looking for something inside us to kill

We can make this better, or not, yes, we will

We're just looking for something inside us to kill

I'm not done yet

I'm not done yet

I'm not done yet

I'm not done yet

We can make this better, or not, yes, we will

We're just looking for something inside us to kill

Rap Marilyn Manson, about as hot as a ransom

With two hoodies on the beach with two bitches crump dancing

Rappers quit your advancing, last man standing

Bars hit so hard your record straight off the planet

The motherfucking hybrid, tell Miley Cyrus…

When I holler to her private I'm tryna get them privates

Parts don't sort, take it hard like Kano

Remember when I told to drink all the Dran-o

Pop all the pills, take all the lines

Chop through the weather with some saw blade blime

Back on that shit, guess what this time?

Half a stick of dynamite where the sun don't shine

Any nigga disrespecting, chin check 'em till he's slinky-neck

Blowing dope, high as…

Countdown to extinction, no, not gonna make it there

So many dead rappers, can't even take baby steps

Walking over carcasses of artists in my garden

Been nice with this shit since Nas was writing past the margin

Any nigga wanna start it, I fucking beg your pardon

I'm with arson, I'm the firestarter, prodigy, bet the armor

Smack my bitch up in the mouth with my dick

And it's not domestic violence ‘cause she likes that shit

There's no sentence to describe it, homie

Except she sucked it like her fucking life depended on it

We can make this better, or not, yes, we will

We're just looking for something inside us to kill

We can make this better, or not, yes, we will

We're just looking for something inside us to kill

We can make this better, or not, yes, we will

We're just looking for something inside us to kill