Further From The Truth - Blaze Ya Dead Homie

My styles are Grundy, gritty and crusted with mold

My body is a shell, inside is a tortured soul

Waiting to grab a hold, of everything you that know

And casually throw it all right out the window

I return from the beyond again, with a shovel on my shoulder

And a photograph of him, from the dark, backwards

Counter-clockwards

A lot of the words that I said, they went unheard

Buried in the casket, tucked under the earth

For so long, with hopes that no one would get hurt

From this raging retard

Riddled with bullet holes, when you’re different

That’s how it goes

I understand, do you?

If you were in a situation, that’s mine

You’d probably go on, pretending everything is fine

But that, phony feeling couldn’t be further from truth

When your on your back, in a coffin, wearing a suit

When your on your back, in a coffin, wearing a suit

That phony feeling, couldn’t be further from truth

Dirty like the earth, And young bitches that lift skirts

To pay college funds, or get they nails done

We all human, got to do, what we gotta to do

From flipping a couple birds, to turning a trick or two

Or slapping a trick or three, for imitating a G

Rapping in the mirror, while they bumping my LP

Imitation is flattery, that what they tell me

But you ain’t thug, you can’t sell me, nope

When your on your back, in a coffin, wearing a suit

That phony feeling, couldn’t be further from truth

A beautiful bowl of spread with lilies and orchids

A mortician playing your song upon the organ

I’ll smash in your casket in with a sledgehammer

At this point now the anger is all that really matters

Busted the clock, threw the numbers away in my dreams

So I’m haunted by new miracle messages, what do they mean?

Whatever it is, is probably wrong

There’s a hole in my head, and thoughts do linger too long

And then I get branded as a walking mistake

And all I wanted was a piece of the cake, and some ice cream

Would a nice dream like a vacation from nightmares?

Speaking on deaf ears to people who don’t really care

We throw it all away in garbage, bring it back

Clean it up after the commentary and serve us a track

What ever they want they gonna get, that’s besides the point

Meanwhile many motherf**kers platinum off of club joints

And it’s all f**ked up right now

And it’s all f**ked up right now

And it’s all f**ked up right now

When your on your back in a coffin wearing a suit

When your on your back, in a coffin, wearing a suit

That phony feeling, couldn’t be further from truth