Themselves - The Mark (CrownsDown) lyrics

Prey, tell me is or ain’t that face paint
Do you raw or do you race trace
If you take to take to takemake
That there’s grave and snake’s your namesake

There’s no cops creeping in
The jungle of bite
And all things blues thief in the night
Is you is or is you ain’t bright light
Can you be trusted to shame
Or honor load prose
Or do you need to get named no
And thrown back to the cold
That came before it

Unamieded tourists in their painted forests
Who take to take to whore it
And poorly absorb this
Here’s a thiefing man’s game
A sampletimethang

A Sisyphus deal
Zeal for meals and heart fangs
Not the swallow of hollow quotes
From cutthroats on strings the rest is

Do you bright or kill light when you bang

So keep your teeth off our mark
We forget to eat for our art
Rawheat to the part no sheath on the heart
Sleeping like sharks despiteing the dark
Where it did start and in the end is a spark

In the clear and severe ear of
A peer spearing it's fears
A 100 years from here
Chilled and in tears to hear
His sheer and near fall is steered

Do you kill just to well the ill
Empty out and refill the pill with your will
Or you bitch to bill… fuck a bill
Burn a bill hell on earth a bill
Curse a bill cut a bill
Hurt a bill gut a bill
What a bill can’t pill
Is the wellillstillspillkill

This goes To those overfroze hearted hoes
With a golden voice and bum nothing to their
Words but poor choice
This goes hoist like skull and crossed bones
Before your Hollywood homes
Grown in the greased slick sick of your least
A most piteous perk of the mark of the beast
That eats good men out into
A star on song streets
This ain’t beef it's called truth in the air
Proof to the square the present is rare
At best and the rest
Is set against the breadth of
All fruit to ever fall from your chest
And the might of the seeds in
Come time they had left in other words
You guilty of killing it or theft

Is you all finished with bitch
After your minutes of rich
Then lift your jaw off my gift off this

Milk you must wean
Not every king appears headless to
Himself in a dream you steel what I mean
Your clock is unclean
While I still want for what
It is that I fiend
Something like rent and heat’ll
Do in the nowtime
Your beats remind me of flatlines
And things without spines
You and your kind can get the
Blackhole and a no sign

Now come

And speak it thief to the crumb
Is there no deadend to the
Lung you suck luck from
Its wind gone like a trustfund or dustdone
Run null, skull, and void
A puff of hype and his toy
Diffuse abusing my likes
But that’s the way the real gets spliced
Its aiiight
Just another case a gimmie them drums
Cause you ain’t jackin em right

It’s the never a droplet of debt regreters
The clever and godless truth proof
In the live setters the sleep walk deaders
The better
The haters of hyped & escalator getters

We’re the ones the stairs ain’t stopping
Empty stomach drum chopping
Not from Compton, DI box oxen
IRS mocking, ant rocking
Dent in the rent remix hocking

Relationshipless, overriskeded, prodigal
Borderline burden gifted, and listless
Muggers of one drug, it's this
Stubborn addicted-to done thug git with

The manner in which we
Swing with our thorough
No strings on what we’re owed
We do it for dirt, hope
And a st-stutter of checks little

Ditto, the manner in which we
Smash with our honest
Don’t ask where we got it
Intuit and crew guided
Us to the answer of art
And the rest is the set stone
And two thrones of our

Drum skin’s stole and poem bones of our

Mark