Jakprogresso - TSUTOMU MIYAZAKI lyrics

[Jakprogresso - TSUTOMU MIYAZAKI lyrics]

Yo, story time, yo, inhaling alkalines
I'm on top of an alpine mountain sight
In a house of mine
I once stared at the sun for
So long my entire body calcified
Recorded this as a ghost of a rapper
Who crawled underneath the couch to die
Homicides is sloppy
Up in rehab with fans that
Had to sign some copies
These conveyor belt rappers just get
In line and copy
I'mma eat these kids like Ratman Miyazaki
Writin' Grimoirs I'm Austin, Aspen spared
I got a blot to tear my locker bare
My pockets is lint piеces pot
In notch o' hair
Animated hurdling Heavеns to Fox and Hare
Blood o' Sinatra, Still Cambodian this an AM1
The livin' aborted mom's son
I hate rappers 'cause I'm one (Fuck that)


Beats then washed up
Unleash the Sun day I'm burnin' pine blunts
What? yeah, yeah, ayo, yo, yo

Who want Henny? I'm all out (Word)
I got self doubt, hate, absorption
Misery and envy
Gold diggers found buried shallow
Wrapped in Fendi
Get ready I'm about to make failure trendy
Brick weed splashed in dusters
No longer Reggie
Heavy, barrel to my temple I'm heavy
This shit is blunt dope, Skinny Behemoth
I'm the Devil Flacko, batshit spit iguano
Monster bars ramble at Mount Fuji
Like they from Lagos, this shit sucks
Luigi off the shrooms holdin' bricks crushed
I once had my wrist cuffed
Caught up liquid Syd during a stick-up
I spit up, fire volcanic hiccups
Get your church hit up
While I'm smilin' like the Devil
Gettin' his dick sucked

Spittin' like Brit dryers, smokin' piff
Openin' a ladder on a
Skyscraper tryna get higher
Dish gloves grip wires I rip flyers
I'm a young Drew Barrymore the Kid Fire
Blood on my bowtie, put your bovines
Willy Wonka boat ride, this whole time
True, dying religion
I came out the pouch, bloody
Crying and hissin'
Bitin' and spittin', bile in liquids drippin'
Like a dead body dyin' and pissin'
Bring down the Heavens and
Curse the livin', livid, cross Fitness
I ran through Olympus jugglin'
Hellsix fire ringlets
Angel fallen, with smokin' wings hips
Bad spells left in riddance
Beats wells off inlets
Halitosis in wind shifts
You can smell the rot comin' from
All the heads on sticks
At a distance, the metal stone ash in crimson

- The Junior High prom dance
- He gonna make it real awkward
- That's exactly how he danced!
- You have to have a certain amount of
Distance between the bodies in Junior High
- Yes exactly! Yes like they say in Catholic
School "leave room for the Holy Ghost"

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