AMORALARTE

I feed the hate, Play-Doh and Maracaibo
High from the strait, kids play with Play-Doh
Restaurant Sala, in and out, Bugatti Veyrons
You’re all scum like the walls of the monastery

Fuck you, kid Gredos
If you don’t like me, that’s cool, I’m fine with that
By day I record raw, at night I breathe noise
I’ve got raves and beeps in my bronchi, ah

With the two hits I have left, I’ll kill it and roll another
I’m breaking in like a state cancer four
I’m breeding ruin in vitro inside a liter
I’m getting on the subway with a massive joint

I give tattoos to pigskin
They sold the bear’s skin, and it’s impossible to hunt it
Bundled up like grizzly bears, wolf teeth showing
The northwest mountains, cheap shit comes with charges

Addictions don’t fuck you up like humans do
Doesn’t matter if it’s a quickie or snorting it in the bathroom
I don’t miss the party, I don’t miss your pussy
I miss how high I used to get a year ago

Rich kids come out with Bujanda and turtlenecks
I never cover my neck, even though lumps are showing
All day jumping around, I cough and imagine hardcore
I sleep with remnants of alcohol and leopard prints

It’s like this, thin and fast like greyhounds
I step out for a smoke with my four Dalton brothers
This is poison, the spark Nate Robinson
The good stuff drifts away like Robinson from Wilson

I could handle more, but I don’t have a good reason
At this point, the hassle is just sport for me
So, you bastard, there’s no comfort zone that comforts
This isn’t love for art, it’s monkeys on hard drugs

Saw rules, commandment of the northwest mountains
You eat ass and talk shit
As they say, twenty-two or whatever.