Ceschi - Bona Drag Tape lyrics

Getting old balls growing longer
Gandalf gray ear hairs like Grandfather
This must be the feeling of
Waking naked in tundra
Fat bones, Miss milk and sunny summers
Not a good look like me two day stubble
Hit the king with left hooks
Start a royal rumble word to mother
All my ex-girlfriends are mothers
Baby brother's having babies still
Worry my mother
In 1990 wanted to be Dikembe Mutombo
Now I’m five-ten-something and still
Can't dunk though just grew up to be like
Big Pun eating Mofongo
Where my phone go? Where my fun go? Uh oh
On the internet
A right-winger called me cuckold
Forget about it fucko, rest for a whole note
This must be the feeling of
Being buried in rubble
This must be the feeling of
Fleeing from certain trouble
This must be the feeling of
Sighing out of relief
Before they lock you up or
Put your ass to sleep
Tonight, I believe I am the
Mohegan son of God
Blackjack table and my cock's rock hard
Recurring dreaming of being taken out by cops
Therapist told me I got some PTSD problems
Dream punches never land, thrice broken arm
Filled to the brim with a titanium rod
Those bones never really heal
They stay splintered
Not a great look like Connecticut winters
Pretty for a day, shitty for a month
Trying to make a buck finding
New ways to say, "I don’t give a fuck"
What? Youth flew by faster than a pog craze
Geckos and Marine world Africa USA
Long gone slap bracelets, '88
Foggy east bay, green dinosaur cake
Baby, when I'm gone you will
Miss my hairy face and the way my lips taste
Sipping Old Colony grape

Just promise that you'll love me
Like my Bona Drag tape
I will always love you like my Bona Drag tape

You got me through some long
Days when money was gone
Bay Sad drives back from the
Casino with negative pay
Listening to Phil Elverum every day
Sometimes I feel as if I
Need to punch shitty people
I have seen the Juggalo painted faces of evil
I have seen a crack
Cookie cooking dirty needles
I have seen a glass stem hold a mini-rose
Through a foggy 7-11 window
Behind the counter one can hear
The beautiful jazzy warble of Rhodes
Hovering there over a shotgun fully loaded
Pretty sure this music will not
Heal your broken bones
Pretty sure this music will not
Mend my broken bones
They ask me what it sounds like in Europe
I don't know
Ask me what it sounds like at Christmas
I don't know

Just promise that you'll love me
Like that Bona Drag tape
I will always love you like my Bona Drag tape
Promise that you'll love me like
My Bona Drag tape
I will always love you like my Bona Drag tape

If I French kiss this gun
Feel the cold steel on my tongue
Picture me happy for once
Remember me when I am dead and gone
If I French kiss this gun
Feel the cold steel on my tongue
Picture me happy for once
Remember me when I am dead and gone

Hope they feed my body to a
Tree and not a grave hope they send my ashes
Into deepest darkest space
With the monkey from the cover
Of the Doolittle case
Hope they make me into something
More than more waste
Hope they feed my body to a
Tree and not a grave hope they send my ashes
Into deepest darkest space
With the monkey from the cover
Of the Doolittle case
Hope they make me into something
More than more waste