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letra de cannonballs copperpot freestyle - jak tripper

i breed insects
able to communicate with intellects
through this mic cable hole in the side of my neck
let me just explain the different steps
first dream state is someone being stabbed in the chest
severely with a pair of scissors, a family of 4 got k!lled and the father was a carpenter or an architect
the seventh was billed in a gardener’s shed
the second one was buried under cement
it’s hard for me to walk with these spiders crawling, dodging my footsteps, my lantern’s almost burning out
my candle’s short, and the wax is dripping on my mouth
i can’t breathe, am i dreaming?
well i pinched myself six times with a pin and i’m bleeding
so it’s gotta be real
what’s the deal when you can’t talk cause your f-cking t–th are made of steel?
i’m mr. bracemouth, my chest and heart are faced out
hold them on a plate, observe my theatrical inner state
oh… or my interface, computers dilate
welcome, marvin’s back, from the mars attacks, saucers covered in plaque
green t–th. have you ever heard of a man covered in seaweed?
it’s really creepy, and sleepy
i was bred inside of an embryonic jelly fluid tight for sleeping
claustrophobic, ask me if i’m into aerobics
i’ll tell you “yeah, after i rape b-tches without trojans.”
keep me open, you’ll be poemless when the moths fly out of my cloak swing
you wanna hear imagination?
cool… levi-station, my planetarial station
i’m levitating over cliff tips with my legs gripped around the highest ledges of cliff tips, then spit sh-t
i was hit by a brisk wind
because i was camping on the side of the himalayan mountain; distant
with no camping or navigation equipment
this sh-t is live
me without oxygen tubes on the earth, i won’t survive
that was a freestyle, believe it or not, like ripley’s
i’m mad skinny, welcome to my dominion, like david bowey, don’t know me
rip rosary’s tight but nothing comes to me, in flight like angels
halo’s with a c-ck ring like paramount, i haven’t showered out since birth
and that’s why the umbilical cord is wrapped around my c-ck, so the head of my tip looks like a smurf hat
i’ll hit the bat, when it’s laced with f-cking dust and crack
cause i like it like that
i’ll chill with freak, and a bunch of hippies, and we all looks like geeks
with buck t–th, and backpacks, jansport label
i’m disabled
but i’m smart enough to lift your b-tches brain out of her skull with a soup ladle
“hi, i’m here to fix your cable!”
i’ll stick this mic in your navel, now who’s disabled?
speak into your intestine cord
spitting out all the food you ate yesterday to prove that i’m gore, horror-core
who spits asbestos?
who’ll dish techno to his f-cking face with an elbow
i’m skinny as f-ck
don’t give a sh-t, i’ll probably grow up with a netted hat and a mack truck
cause i’m white, actually corsican sicilian
right by african, brazilian
doesn’t matter
by jacob’s ladder you’ll see me b-tt naked in shorts revealing my bladder
i’m covered in lather in a f-cking shower
never get girls like austin powers
cause i’m dated way back
that’s why i do lots of rapping and like it
i’m a bicyclist in aerobics leg warmers
i got pajama’s, they’re mad tight, i just love the transformers!

- jak tripper

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