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lirik lagu can’t i (skaem remix) – schizophrenic god

i raise my
fist..
with the hammer gripped like amulets
.i carry the dagger, or glock
on fire: stagger & shots been fired..
..flaming doc, i aim the glock
.cop the yurple
…cought tubercle. c*ck to, murk you..
…calm phase
the hacksaw, a hurt you
..with heavy metal, strings attached
go you pulling out: the notebook
…make em, enterthe sandman
.with every grain
..this a i nferno match, arm blazed..
…leg scortched, on dirt trapped
matched like buried alive, i carry the nine..
.catch the kane: flame his back
like the dreamer.
..through the table, i’m meaner, with scapes
,so fiend, what it takes.. get dropped: off the beam
.phenomanly. & steal structers.
..i hang till the fall. is the air..

but, i be shootin stars, to the flow
.. if i fall off. that
but i can’t stop..
but i can’t
but i can’t stop now…

..i just shoegaze at my doc martens
this a buke off the god’s garden
…..you fronted, jaw bitting
..plagerized, all writings..
…& you call physcics
..lawn… drapped, up
with all, striking resemblence
.f*ck off, her make*up
..i’m long, hardened
.pardon her, when she turned on

excessive gargeling
obsession, darling..

..bark in

and i englight, when i’m sparkin..
i think i’m hard*hearted
…sleep tight in a coffin
….i’m smoking in dior, with darko interpetations
.look at revelations, though the micropscope
i still think… i like that, hoe
.b*tter facial features, whipped up. like ice cream
..with what? a microdose, of heron
if you think, i’m not about to bussa, macadamiam
well then your wrong. talk about the sh*t you on
..they start, like… “i heard your songs”
then. proceed to spit the word on the street
……but, this the word of god
…nipple slip up, b*tch dripped up
you better plan, right now
..see ghost in the cl*sters, by my frames
.when the cane to, his skull
.]hardcore hak

dreamer..
and my glocks is akimbo

i noticed its, bigger than, stress
i blow the sig. after s*x
& shoegaze, lifted of oil..
.i shop though the window..
of this new. street wear, ..magazine
..on my spleen. encore aploud to me
…these glock be, akimbo.. my apologeze
…these shipped, from the store
i got christion.. dior
.blow yo synapse, with techs.. unless

i send that text, to blow yo sh*t back, i’m hexed

- schizophrenic god

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