EXTRA KOOL - Midol lyrics

rate me

This town needs a enema, and that's simply pressed upon these egg shells, this is the suicidal conversation

Telling me to go to hell, I need help, someone give me the midol please, because this stomach's a little

Twisted, of all the rascally rappers in the world, these sunken eyes represent the grimy tongues of the

Misfits, and it's grunts from thethroats, the impressions of lovable sadistic, these are the hands of

Borrowed fires, feeding my thoughts to all these hungry, hungry hypocrites, this body is a battlefield

Of calm constitution, when the ink stains the topic, this beautiful mind starts to loosen, this is swallowed

Sympathy for the egos bathed up in the gruesome, now isn't that sweet, the nuclear blood fills the eyes and

These swollen types are to watch me weep, I hope you enjoyed the constance, because my fingers are

Incomplete, so let's burn the sheets, and list the introductions to lock, shock and barrel, I'd love to end

This conversation, but I feel obligated to stab these sparrows, but of all the broken minds, these cramps

Are forcing the straight and narrow, I want my energy back, and that's important to running the show, he's

A meaningless head bread into the germs of dysfunctional stereos, how unreasonable, I want you to take these

Hands and burn them, please insert the saltines to make soap with tyler durden, this season's curtains, and

These cramps are yet another long shot.

Slugs and snails and puppy dogs tails, loose teeth and swollen egos coated on the sales, these cramps are

Killing me as the midol fails, close your eyes and go to sleep, as I swallow all these nails.

This is the symptoms of the straight edge, with a stomach full of decay, we drown up in the playpens, but

It's all sock puppets and sweat shop hookers, these pockets are a little naughty, as we ingest the cramps

From sharp shooters, I'm a lot looser, and I swear this midol has doubled the doses in these sad lungs,

He's just another submissive citizen, who spreads his wings to see spot run, I lost one, but it's all about

The calm resolution, I'm terribly tasty, for ever embedded in optik fusion, I think I'm dieing, either that,

Or this egos grown in full force, just another mc, bulit by the " I'm better than you raps " with the incentive

To lose my voice, I've got no choice, because it's all about these hand grenades, the intentions to touch myself,

The stir the sugar in your"e hater-aid, but it's all labor pains, and heaven on the week days, the shadows killed

The contrast, from the instructions to say my name, but god's got a steering wheel, and this pistol shoots blanks,

I did it all for the love of rotting halos, and the sake of saving skin from the razor blades, in tune to scared

Clashes, shattered knees too broken legs, must stay awake, because these people want to eat me, it's time to call

The coppers, and spread these grins across the t.v.'s, believe me, because I'm feeling terribly bloated, overwhelming

Irritable, from the contact of the corroded, my tears are open, and I've whispered a thousand excuses, these cramps

Are killing me, and this tongue's extremely delouted