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• Artiste: Lionshare
• Titre: Trip To Feza
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Twisted off these mushrooms, Pacing through some hushed rooms, Prepare my state of mind for the party customs. Guests arrive shortly in some gaudy costumes. I feel the shrooms kick in, think I’ll be ruined. Step outside and have a smoke, Aces clicking in the spokes, Creeping dryness in my throat, Knots get tight in stomach ropes. Take some coke from Geron. Get my coat up off the throne. Forgot my keys. Roll to the door. Locked up tight: Code unknown. Voices in my head intone, â€�Mind your manners. Mind your own. Mind that cash. Mind that stash. Cut that coke with the acetone.â€� Sidewalk stepstones, Neon zone, Feasting eyes, Light is cold, Basking in a frozen glow, I think it’s gonna snow. Unattractive girls I know Holler but I let them go No following I got to go See the pusher man although My mind’s in Purgatorio. Gotta get that money, Gotta flip that blow. Take care of business fore pleasure, You know? You know? He spin a yip-laced trip to feza, Printed out the ticket on a Rizla paper In blue ink. Who think we don’t flip lids? Powerhouse crew still lightin up grids. Auction house kids still holding up bids, And we still sleep 2 eyes open for the feds. O wait no we hold so much weight though, Watch for Crown Vics with the G.O. plates. I-95 blow lines while I’m drivin, Bent somethin terrible — Ivan. Sirens flash and I’m flying, Look back in the rearview, Like â€�Who, who, who Who’s on my tail I dowanna go to jail.â€� But the man pass by and I’m sighin, Gotta get back to my spot, get high and Settle my nerves. It’s Halloween I’m tryna get on my swerve. I’m on that lean and the Louis 13, Bout to sell my soul for a sack of magic beans. Step into the party lookin hazardous in gabardine, I got my stunnas on — I don’t need no Visine. Fresh pair on my feet: I know they trendy cause When I pass by got necks lookin like bendy straws. She tryna check out my shit, I’m like, â€�Really, bitch, you can just check out this dick.â€� I ain’t gonna act So put the curtains on the flirtin; If we fuckin then I’m certain I’mon leave your pussy hurtin. Take some gloss from out your purse and Put that shit up on your lips, Cause when you suck me in the kitchen Want my fuckin dick to glisten. He spin a yip-laced trip to feza, Printed out the ticket on a Rizla paper In blue ink. Who think we don’t flip lids? Powerhouse crew still lightin up grids. Auction house kids still holding up bids, And we still sleep 2 eyes open for the feds. O wait no we hold so much weight though, Watch for Crown Vics with the G.O. plates. I-95 blow lines while I’m drivin, Bent somethin terrible — Ivan. Sirens flash and I’m flying, Look back in the rearview, Like â€�Who, who, who Who’s on my tail I dowanna go to jail.â€� But the man pass by and I’m sighin, Gotta get back to my spot, get high and Settle my nerves. It’s Halloween I’m tryna get on my swerve. Parked out front in them handicap spaces. Rag tied round like he fuckin faceless. Dance moves dummy like he fuckin graceless. Snatch your girl bracelet, Fuck it I’m wasted. Fuck it I’m wasted.