Goretex

[Goretex]
Lifes riddles are strange, Im sick of the days/daze the art of dyin
to symbolize change, witness the pain
Blocks of free cheese, Becky sold her crib for coke
Slept with the baby and crushed her ribs in the middle of smoke
Close encounters, pedophiles in schools posing as janitors
Backgrouns checks where they collected the death tolls from Canada
Acura shootouts under my windows filled with passengers
Throwbacks splattered with brains, zip them up with no bandages
Anybody gets it, somebody wetted JMJ
No respect for his craft, shot in his face, laughed and they ran away
Too many massacres, too many babies pass away
Im only blastin to comfort you humans in the last days
[Chorus]
We turn the page, the inner self, its the art of dying
The book of change blood, we never stopped climbin
Time be movin too fast, its just the art of dying
Police sirens, no food in the fridge, mamas cryin
We turn the page, the inner self, its the art of dying
The book of change blood, we never stopped climbin
Time be movin too fast, its just the art of dying
Police sirens, survivin this life, mamas dyin
[Goretex]
I asked God if Im redeemed at all for things I seen and did
As a kid I grew up foul with bitterness from being poor
Beat up Pumas and pants, didnt understand
Fightin with mom, the pizza place dont take food stamps
Im losin my grip, everybodys pops was strict
My uncle was cool till the cancer devoured his dick
I never looked back, I buried more souls than I knew
Eulogies so familiar to me, tears and the stench of glue
Predict apocalypse, cynic visions of two
Mini images of towns fallin and women consumed
These killers have proved it boils down to oil and food
Another newscast hovers the clouds to poison the mood
[Chorus]
[Goretex]
Prescriptions we dont need, religion we dont feed
Get the Henny out, sellin up Vs and smokin trees
Stay tanked up, double shanks up, spiritually bankrupt
Walk through Canarsie like Big bangin, gettin my gangs up
These little hoes sellin checks for stoges
Tradin ya diapers for dutches, benefits for clothes
Hockin freebies, she rockin on socks stinkin of feces
Video bitches, easy to pop, most are disease freaks
Shorty with five seeds and three in her face
Whilin out, smokin krills up, puffin up in the babys face
Get him some Ritalin, quick, he turns killer when
He starts illin, never got love, never to live again
Who break the cycle, his life is only to kill again
Once innocent but the hatreds turnin on him again
[Chorus]
[ The Art Of Dying Lyrics ]