Sadistik, Nacho Picasso - Witching Hour lyrics

I'm blowing smoke circles like a halo
Lay low drifting off the trees I spark
Just to get to sleep it off
Always look so purple when I stay so, Kano
Ripping out my beating heart
Just to rip a beat apart
Listen to the secret art of
Arteries and speak a song
That all the people seem to
Sing-along to call on me i call it me
My apologies if I’ll mislead you
All to think I need you to all agree
I’m Hunter S when I puff the cess
I’m so Bukowski with the alcy
(A Haole off that Muai Wowie
While he’s soundin' drowsy
While he’s prowling with
The sleep-deprived kings
Inside the county that I live)
206’s unofficial eulogist
Sadistik motherfucker
Cody Foster was the pseudonym
I shoot the gifts with these two gold lips
Uh that Midas kiss
Fuck around and get your title stripped

I’m seeing double like I
Like my whiskey sours
It’s 3 AM, that’s the witching hour
Give me power

Give me power, give me powder
Sacrificial concubine let me plow her

Underground's hot, Chronos to Hades
Bone most the ladies give
'em Rosemary's babies
Rose gold machetes in a rose gold Mercedes
All the vices in my city
I'm like Tommy Vercetti
Getting dome in the Chevy
Put 'em on and we're steady
Leave you alone if you let me
To go home when you're ready
Nacho Picasso my shrine is a booth
My mother merely mortal
But she grinding with Zeus
After nine she said "poof" golden egg
Mother goose most these niggas act fairy
Someone hiding the tooth
Take it out his own mouth
To remind him it's proof
They be blinded by the light
Cause behind that is truth

I see, violence in the violet lens
Violins play vile hymns inside my head
(And I’m Orion’s gem
Sacrificed like Mayan men
Since I was ten, demons prying
Who invited them?)
It’s like "Of Mice and Men"
When John Steinbeck said

Live a legend, die a myth
This is where the lightnin' hit's
What they’ll say
(Fuck today, I be on my pirate ship
I be on my viking shit
Fighting and igniting shit
All I did is light her wrist
Now Dionysus dyking it)
You know you’re faded when you
Can’t take the step, so
Space cadet, I might go Eraserhead
Place your bets (Wasted vets, tasting sweat
OG Kush laced and wet
Out here tryna make a rep
But really you won’t make a speck)
Face of death, day of dead
Stumble toward a bayonet
They collect Elliott Smith with a plate again
(Cage you in, major friends
Murder’s what they major in
Major sins, tattered limbs
Strapped up in the abdomen)