Grandpa Used To Carry A Flask

What happens when I’m suicidal, vibrations all through my spinal
From the hits to the vinyl, my mind will be in the bible
I will see the signs and I’ll probably not understand a lot
Rode into town yesterday, straight from Camelot
The prayers are not in common language they don’t mean a thing
The evil king of underworlds accumulating bodies
This rap shit is turning into nothing but a hobby
Cause the pussy has already been fucked or in the lobby waiting
Dominating the matrix kick it with God and Satan
Oscillation through my veins, into these constellations
Drug users, they wouldn’t let us join the club
So now it’s Spanish bitch massage, give my joints a rub
What’s the purpose of everything, who the fuck cares?
We run scared, cause nothing fair and we don’t become aware
Pretend it don’t exist, ignorance, the only bliss
I think it’s me, well I hope it is
But no kids and no responsibilities
I’m writing soliloquies, and transcend visually
The intelligent idiots who never be serious
Cause the world around is fucked up, so we’d rather get fucked up

My grandpa used to carry a flask

[Verse 2: Mac Miller]
As I’m pacing back and forth, waiting ‘til they pass the torch
Life a bitch, about forty in a sad divorce
Voice is hoarse, getting harder to speak
Remarkable themes, talk mark to the beast
I saw them caught on the leash, we walk in common asleep
In coffins, talking to Stephen Hawking, even we see it often
So we close our eyes, hoping we forgot to die
Shit it must have slipped my mind, why?

Well, I haven’t seen a genuine smile in awhile
Mostly everybody stuck in denial

[Verse 3: Delusional Thomas]
So I’m coming out of cryogenics just to taste the air
You ain’t aware, outer space with there
I’m talking about Natalie the cattle eater with nasty features
Rapping with a flaccid wiener, shit
That’s only half a Peter
Taking out the dogs, murder half a PITA

No, no humus with that

Having conversations with myself, getting into arguments
When I’m out in London, I be posted at the Parliament
Coke in the Parliaments, chilling by some monuments
Ominous when I fill your body with godly hollow tips
Leave you holy, prepare for the apocalypse
Sixty thousand on a rollie, cookies with the chocolate chips
Rapping hippopotamus, mothafuck a zookeeper
I don’t do features, I snort glue and chew ether
Hand full of sleeping pills, it’s only me I kill
I’m Jack, wanna sleep with Jill, she’d spill on my penis drill

Mr. Jesus can you save my life?
Yeah, yeah—
Looking at a mans casket
Turn him into ham salad
How I’m feeling?—fantastic
The finish line, I ran past it
Bitches love me cause I got a tan phallus
Get your house sandblasted
Your damn ass kicked—Damn Gladys
Another fans ballad is transact
And I demand gadgets at the sand palace
For away I Amtrak it
My safe is great, a saint couldn’t, can’t crack it
Came through swagging in a all tan wagon
With the land of the dragons, I just stand for the balance
I’m just tryna play with my band on Fallon
(Rallin’) I don’t got no talent

[Outro: G-Reg]
He’s not dead, he’s just delicious…