Error.is.human - Special.case sangtekster (lyrics)
[Error.is.human - Special.case sangtekster lyrics]
If ur looking for some crystals you’ll be met
Our shit is spiritual, our shit like a sect
Got a motor in my flesh, Cobra round my neck
Making sure the coma keeps from round’ my bed
The bottom feeders are the common greeters
If I reject ya way I won’t need ya
I’m hotter than jalapeños &
California's grim reaper
If u want beef I won’t mince meat ya
Cause if I stand tall why would I fall soft
U actin like the worlds perfect
And like I can’t talk
Get ya hand of my throat
Ya ankles of my lawn
Ya advances off of my dome
Ya calcium out of my bone
If u got parents with ptsd
Who don’t like mdma and u like epmd
Then 2 plus 2 just gon equal 3
Must take like 4 gеns to
Really feel inner peacе
So before I’m enlightened and I see the truth
I don’t see that i have
The right to reproduce
All the crime and that I see in youth
I can't even peek atchu
Throwing combinations into thin air
But the wind won’t bend near
And yet the pen leaks petroleum
Go to nyc, 10th street podiums
N, ali, all I lack is some sodium
Say someone’s better than me, show me them
Bring em to the odeon
Sling em front the audience
Sing to me ya origins
Convict me of ya ordinance
Depict me of ya mortal sense
Encrypt in me some odd events
And ya absorbent sense, and ur torments
And I might believe you
Our shit is spiritual, our shit like a sect
Got a motor in my flesh, Cobra round my neck
Making sure the coma keeps from round’ my bed
The bottom feeders are the common greeters
If I reject ya way I won’t need ya
I’m hotter than jalapeños &
California's grim reaper
If u want beef I won’t mince meat ya
Cause if I stand tall why would I fall soft
U actin like the worlds perfect
And like I can’t talk
Get ya hand of my throat
Ya ankles of my lawn
Ya advances off of my dome
Ya calcium out of my bone
If u got parents with ptsd
Who don’t like mdma and u like epmd
Then 2 plus 2 just gon equal 3
Must take like 4 gеns to
Really feel inner peacе
So before I’m enlightened and I see the truth
I don’t see that i have
The right to reproduce
All the crime and that I see in youth
I can't even peek atchu
Throwing combinations into thin air
But the wind won’t bend near
And yet the pen leaks petroleum
Go to nyc, 10th street podiums
N, ali, all I lack is some sodium
Say someone’s better than me, show me them
Bring em to the odeon
Sling em front the audience
Sing to me ya origins
Convict me of ya ordinance
Depict me of ya mortal sense
Encrypt in me some odd events
And ya absorbent sense, and ur torments
And I might believe you