Qwel & Maker - Capathy lyrics

rate me

Coward human got a gun, he's down to shoot it, run

Bow before his outward spouting power

A flower slumps in the slums

A crushing flood on someone's love, someone's son, someone's done

(Buck, Buck, Buck, UHHH)

And the rain sings like, I don't care

And the train howls like, I don't care

But where them thugs at, so other thugs know just who to bust at

Some dumb ass brats who buck at other thugs, but miss as much as tap

To cap a total stranger's rug rat

Waitin on the bus mad

Not another mustard…puff…slug through lung and lunch bag

Fuck cats actin adamant about thug ass philosophy

But oddly enough never changed a diaper or diaper wrapped colostomy

Rap about zaggin rags, I highly doubt it

Let the dragon out on babies babies, now ain't a side round it

(I don't care)

Drowning flowers ain't a thing, not for cowards fraid to sing

That goes for cops up on Howard

Panoptic tower made of heat

It's raining steel nails through tissue boat sails and gales of dollar cream

Hail increase like collars, fathers martyred out of ink

Think how slaughtered daughters' mothers weep it out without an ounce of sleep

Salty heaps of sniffled "why's" crystallized round her cheeks

Sees the skies as just clouds now

Shouts in her pillow wet

But where my killer's killers?

To fill in her children's silhouette

Chillin, building hell, feelin well, killin something

Blood for miles, high as a horse's bridle, demons runnin, Jesus comin

Told 'em

Hold 'em to an unrepentant sentence, senseless muggin

Desensitized eyes, shruggin pride, to deny your lungs from pumpin

He's the hardest motherfucker ever fucked a mother

Brother bucker

Bust at thunder in his slumber

Up to pluck your number

Peace

The Harvest

Rubber Duckers, he's retarded

Swingin his sickle, gleanin brittle garden, marksman sucks you under

I don't care