Still Slippin - Illinformed, BVA

Still slippin', still kippin', looking thin as fuck

Still desecrating rhythms, sat here skinning up

Ill visions, Illinformed sent to wake him up

Feel the beat, kill the sheep and it starts with

What planet am I living on?

Cabin fever

Had to resuscitate him for a little song

Self admitted to the psycho ward flat 1

Think he’s finding it hard to walk but his raps run

Time for action, watch Bronson, now we’re ready

Paranoia will destroy ya but sometimes it’s nice just feeling edgy

Swoop like Eddie, tell the kids to keep the moolah steady

I bought from Kenny but saved him in my phone as Jenny

Living life like a rodent, coming out at night to forage for scraps of potent

shit to be smoking

No shit promoting, smoke a blunt that’s highly dipped and soaked in oil

No foil but look like I’m on opium

I leap from the opening

Bottle the extract, hit it raw then feel to do the scratch like a Vestax

Peace (??) Best DJ in the south, best respect that

One set deep and best believe that my head’s fat

Still slippin', still kippin', looking thin as fuck

Still desecrating rhythms, sat here skinning up

Ill visions, Illinformed sent to wake him up

Feel the beat, kill the sheep and it starts with

Still getting the bus feeling semi concussed

Slip inside my mind reeling off the heavenly dutch

Things will happen that will send you spiralled into the clutch

Of the dark forces that will squeeze 'til everything you see’s fucked

Slipping off the edge, man he’s off the head

Strange look in my eyes, sat here rocking on the ledge

Snap out and the picture you see is beautiful

And walk the street feeling like the world has found a use for you

Just get caught in avalanches, reaching for the branches

Heading for the city of Atlantis

Lost and found, what are the chances?

Rolling in with the dogs brother, but you still get your hand bit

Always been slippin', haters been sittin' in the shade steady sippin'

Throwing little digs in, now they spit contradictions

Never know who was real from the start of the fiction

Just do your best to pick 'em

Still slippin', still kippin', looking thin as fuck

Still desecrating rhythms, sat here skinning up

Ill visions, Illinformed sent to wake him up

Feel the beat, kill the sheep and it starts with