Jonathan Toth, MF DOOM - Ghostwhirl lyrics

Well here we are again just you and me
I don't need a friend, maybe two or three
That's me myself, and I
Happiness will be awhile
Until I remember how to freestyle right
Man, I see bland faces, floating next to me
Is this my destiny?
Hope not, or I might throw up
To lose the recipe
Man, I sure can stay inside my head
And play dead
Like night of the living white dreads
Who want to be angry
But them seem frightened
Sort of reminiscent of clash
Of the teen titans
I used to have a girlfriend
But it was time to go
When she was trying to show
How much hate she could still taste
From things that happened awhile ago
It was wearing thin
But I can be a trifle slow
Especially on a tourniquet that
Should've stymied her flow
I never earned her full bliss, it went wrong
But my permagrin is quite strong, like 500
000 miles long
Cry on, cause I'm like the swan
And if this mic is on
I guess I might stay on long
Enough to write this song
Yeah, right, it's hype get your clothes girl
I don't have the time or mood
To make your toes curl
No more open mics? no sir
Ever since you laid the cold hurt
It's a ghost world
NEXT, a strict regiment of
Sets on the bowflex
Chromium to mold flesh and wheat
Grass to show the rest
Meditation and some slow stretching
Let the mind go to rest
When necessary, speaking of which, no sex
It's a time to heal, not a time to hate
And don't try to keep it real
In such a sad state
Just be depressed for a sec
And if it ends late
Be like yeay! I made through to the next day
The best say
You can't stay in one place too long
The rest say, you're gay if you still like
Those old love songs
The test press day is now
I best press play and taste the sound
Just in case I see a queen
And want to checkmate her style
And we could just embrace, or ride out
But right now
I'm still looking for love inside my hideout
It's really nothing to cry about
But when I'm out patience with
My mistakes, it's like, "God
Get the white-out!"

What a messy fuss
It happens to the best of us love
Hate to raise the heart rate up
To your chest to bust
And leave you with just enough stress to cuss
Ooh trouble, two's a couple
Three's treacherous
And got you open like the high seas
Hoping like these for the squeeze on live G's
Jive turkeys, they lucky if they
Survive the depths of hell, it's murky
Jerky, come on work with me
See how she's twerking the
Skirt with tit's perky
A flirt with a smirk that could
Body you in one shot glance
And let 'em rot, I'm like, not a chance
Hot pants!"
Run feet, and keep from off front street
That sizzle like the blunt heat
With business that's for under sheets
Creep on secret missions, peep it
Or else be in some deep shit
With more fishes to sleep with