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letra de smoke & shadows - lord looney

[verse 1: lord looney]
cause the weed took my best friend
took a year, up to here ’til the mess end
it appear to do sh-t for depression
yet the music a useful tool to invest in too
rust stains on the razorblades
that’s what they say to mom when she raises a-
eyebrow or two, when you hide in the gloom
all the blinds in the room are down, i -ssume
you gaze into sp-ce, and you plague in the pain
and you pray for the same thing: a day of amazement
a feeling of gain, still baked in the bas-m-nt
wonder where the f-ck all the pain or the days went?
gun pressed to the crest of my head
maybe love will take effect when the restroom is red
and i never even rest when i rest in my bed
so it’s best if i nest in the guestroom again
no pen, no hope-
it came to be…
cause there ain’t no cake in the 803
it’s a lotta false face in the 803
it’s a lotta bald hate in the 803
and i kinda lost faith in the 803
and i kinda stopped waiting on the 803
got a mind to hock hate at the 803
then i realize all this is fate
it’s paved for me

[hook: anonymous owls]
love
though it wrecks and amuses
it only comes true when it stems from the music
hate
it dwells in my senses
pencil me a check for a cell in the sane head
pain
it grows from the hunger
of f-ckin’ the game, chuckin’ blame ’til the sun up
and love
only know it exists
when a puddle comes up as it flows from your wrists
x2

[verse 2: lord looney]
from a city where the music dips
like the crews that’ll usually do the sh-t
and if you ain’t got a crucifix around your neck
your kind loses; get crucified against
i don’t call myself a christian
i call myself a human
and life’s a selfish mission
to question what we’re doing
what if we never find the answers
and the whole thing is useless
i glide in panoramas
as i hope i soak in lupus…
the school kids’ stupid, never stooped to ’em
too busy movin’ a pendulum induced rhythm
get ’em son, poppa dubbed-
me upper to the popular
soppin’ up the rotten thoughts
and drop ’em in the prophet’s cup-
pretentious, never been the goal
a menace, been the cynical-
ripper of the centerfold-
since i felt the inner glow-
dribble out as i grew up
fiddle doubt as i threw up-
my middle finger, spittle out-
a riddle, bit ’em, k!lled the doubt
appear a bit lost in the nonsense…
ear to the conch, it’s the sound of my conscience
pounding at the launch pad, watch this-
wonder where the cops at? not missed
suffice with a tendency to coward
and i never count stacks, but i’m stacking up a counteract
f-ck life, and everything about it
shout that from the mountaintop ya’ll surrounding at…

[hook: anonymous owls]
(repeat)

- lord looney

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