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lirik lagu spike, the “dragon” – spike the dragon


[sample] what if we discovered that this creature that haunts our imagination were real? if dragons were real, what were they really like? how did they breathe fire? why did they die out? to unlock these secrets, we need to find physical evidence – evidence revealed by the slow retreat of a melting glacier. what if we found…. a body?

did somebody say dragon? [uhh… no?]
thought not. but you can hear ’em buckin over shots on a hot block
motherf-ckers stop, drop, and pray that sh-t’ll stop [stop]
spend the next ten years turning over a botched job
[… stop] of course i mean that i’m in a hot rod [right?]
’bout to crash that motherf-cker straight into a cop squad [right?]
’bout to pop glock [right?]
i’ll singlehandedly turn a f-cking four way intersection into a chop shop [right?]
in the hospital, wind up lock jawed
so the twenty f-cking people worldwide who know me like “aw naw”
and i’m like (gargle) and they’re like “that’s rad”
when i show ’em how i gotta hit the spliff through a gas mask
because i’m that rad. dirtier than twins incest
currently booting up, wave goodbye to my interests
burn you this stupid stuff
say it in a style blunt
make pedophile blood spray all over the internet
trying to think of a single f-cking thing i didn’t get
from my parents. into the sink spit a single gut
and say it’s my larynx
[… wait…]
and that’s happening everyday so i’m bucket listing like idiots [stop!]
i mean to say i’m f-cking a bunch of immigrants [right?]
while i’m rubbing knuckles with all of these punks who listening
like, four or five hipster kids
about to f-cking flip the lid soon as they get a l!ck of this
[right?] bestie’s like, “word,” that’s getting taken to the bas-m-nt
where i’m basically muscling up some synonyms
directly adjacent to where i’d put trophies i didn’t get
was too busy trying to feel like a f-cking kid again
cause i’m most certainly not feeling like a grown up
like i don’t even feel like a human being so f-ck [auuugh, stop.]
i mean, i’m at the mall with some miscreants
whose music got me singing that six hundred sixty six again

“spike, take a letter.”
“uh, spike’s dead.”
“shut the f-ck up kid.”