Themselves - Each Ant In Their House lyrics

[Themselves - Each Ant In Their House lyrics]

One-two hundered rappers th- they all died
By gun empty anger honest or hype
They all died
And when all the legends and heavens for
Them had all but went dry
Was there a measure to their records
That had left them twice lived

Ants carry their dead in their mouth
Convict hard at the foot of our art
Character is what you are in the dark
In that yet
Ain’t it the overpainted arrangement
Of all that is painless
And harmful to the pit of a person
Not This famous estranging of the
Self to the self
Otherwise Completely ingrained in
You in the eye of a cut records half life
Destined to lap twice your
Cell soaked gross daylight intook
Intook you stood
And in alphabetical order you will stand
Low amongst record store stock
And blues thief’s beliefs
A testament to the achievements
Of one who pushed his teeth
Deep in the matter of his
Def decades before sleep
Hell crows gotta eat
And you are what is lost ghost seeking sheet
And character is what you are
In the dark from where the rent check barks
Into the single cell of all things heart
Each ant in their house
Each ant In their stark

And even though the closeness
Of continents may shift
These songs are a bright
Black that’ll never lift
Yet let’s light leek
And now a days when we meet
In a dive’s lowlit pit's we can hardly speak
The words for where our dreams went weak
Trying the flame in our preach
And it’s proof
That fires grow bigger than men
To become A thing beyond pen
That come time can’t eat
From it's blood in a beat or isn’t it then
Laugh lines buried under a briar of beards
Some drugged blind so they
Can yolk whole year
And grow tongue from to the
Coal of burnt gone&cold peers
Beneath the quiet onset of the darkening ear

You see my fire friend
One hunger can never truly eat another
One’s hunger can never truly eat another’s

We’re all in an aquarium
Feeding our negativity
Wanting to bury them but there’s
Nowhere to place the bodies
Let them burn the ashes make a wonderful gift
It’s a tourist trap I hope they buy this shit

Each ant in their house
Each G ant in their house

Rappers is all confused with their "yes"
"no"s and "maybe"s
Like they moms would put 'em in
Dresses when they was babies

Like I ain't gonna redo them
Like some old ugly upholstery
You covered in plastic like nana's couches
Yous about to get ripped out ya
Tiny little blouses and get outed
On the end with me you ain't
I paint whole streets with your blood
You chump, chum, shit that I
Feed to my whales, they pets
I got big ones, I swing it you a marionette
You get caught up in the strings
What I bring will set fire
From stem to sternum rappers I burn em
Desecrate em, and I observe them

I catch and throw lead
From these little rappers
All burnt, back to mom's cookies
They want love and nookies
They get smacks and relapses of heart attacks
When I back them up against fence

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