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lirik lagu lost soul – shureshot hypothesis

[verse 1]

f-ck fried…
my mind’s meandered
walked away
lost, my sanity is the cost of the day
price to pay
just so i can say i’ve got it together
my brain a feather as it abandons
me and this storm that i weather
whether or not i choose to
it appears i’ve been chosen
smokin’ my mind open
hopin’’ i can find a potion for this…
lack of direction
wreckin’ my cerebral section
puttin’ my soul in check and
testin’ me to turn this bad into a blessin’
yet my existence twists and contradicts itself
comparatively minuscule be the pain that i felt
got ready for life, f-cked up
and left my soul on the shelf
wish i could find right
cuz i heard there’s nothing that feels like
true understanding of self

[chorus]

oh i bet she knows…
how to ruin the life of an innocent stranger
oh bet she knows…
how to wring the soul of an innocent man

[verse 2]

i know not the bomb spots
world war three will be worse than ‘nam shots
be sure fool;
i won’t condone no phones, dial tones, or stylus
you’re owned, the 4th will be fought with sticks and stones
roll past blowin’ ashes, i be p-ssin’
on the side of the asphalt
it’s the past’s fault
while i smile like an imbecile
place souls in limbo
our explosions, posin’
growing hatred
facing even the most amazing
causing derangement
displacing the daze and the ways
of our brain is the only way to save this
to blaze this eighth and
state it on a mixtape
i’m rude boy
a ways from jamaica
and if you ain’t like my face
the phrases on the paper will make your -ss dead weight
i earn my keep
head full of hate
you’re in too deep like the end of pool
spend like a fool
end of cool
beginning of composure, no public exposure
i’m here to bring closure, call me the closer
explode like geysers or f-ckin’ cellulose
disappear limping gimp like kaiser sosa

[chorus]

[verse 2]

see the factor
of the matter
shureshot ain’t n-body hotter
dub rasta rhyme little faster
i am the bread and the wine and the water
swing batter batter
slide right past ya
ride to the vibe of the white blonde rasta
seek out disaster
cal on your pastor
say what you wan
brother burnin fiyah cuz
proud man not gon’ slip not gon’ stumble
live for the city but he come from the jungle
babylon wanna rumble with b-mble
sound break ‘em down make jericho crumble
some proud and some of them humble
some loud and some of them mumble
some grasp and some of them fumble
some stand firm and some of them stumble

- shureshot hypothesis

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