Lunar C - Troubled Mind lyrics

Acid tab under the eyelid
I'd rather dress like a
Dickhead and rhyme shit
Than have a ghostwriter or a stylist
I'm childish got a lot more in store
Like the website's shit
I will give up all these grimy bitches
Just to settle for a wife and kids
I know I'm lying, shit
Me and Danz shouldn't make it
Look as easy as this geniuses all up in a
Rapper's grill like VVSes beat ya senseless
Feel free to be offended
No fucks to give, I couldn't find one
Not evеn a dry hump
Treat the three holes in your
Bally likе a bowling ball
Poke both your fucking eyes out and
Make you choke and all
Left my baby mom to fuck an average whore
Eat the pussy with a plastic
Fork and sriracha sauce
Sniff the cocaine through a Singapore cane
You got a Ken doll's dick
I got a kendo stick lunar

Troubled mind, I never found solace
You rappers are iffy, you don't sound honest
I'll only take your girl if she's down for it
I just wanna bust, I'll go to town on it
Troubled mind, I never found solace
You rappers are iffy, you don't sound honest
I'll only take your girl if she's down for it
I just wanna bust, I'll go to town on it

Troubled mind, I never found solace
You rappers are iffy, you don't sound honest
I'll only take your girl if she's down for it
I just wanna bust, I'll go to town on it
Troubled mind, I never found solace
You rappers are iffy, you don't sound honest
I'll only take your girl if she's down for it
I just wanna bust, I'll go to town on it

Troubled mind and I must clutch this mic
But such is life
I'll break your neck, Busta Rhymes
Back your boy before he has a ruptured spine
Michael Myers butcher knife
Dump you in the countryside
Your girl likes asphyxiation
Not when you choke on mic
The only time you'll hang with me
Is off a rope you climb
Listening to Brotha Lynch while
I'm home and high
Return of the baby killer, tell her open wide
Raise the dead cutthroat, Razorhead
I moonwalk, retrace my steps
In the wrong place again my Sega gen
I've been living in your thoughts but
I do not pay the rent
Four bars left, that's a kilo
And every line's that A1 perico paid in full
Bitches sniffing round me like a beagle
It smells like what the
Rock's cooking is illegal