Lyrics
yo, this is the 0utsyder,
i am the fire inside the lighter,
the rage inside the tiger,
thats caged inside this writer,
my words are whepons,
while i slur my verbs with urge,
misspoken words, are my heart, my soul my currage,
i discurrage, everybody that comes my way,
kick a pregnant bitch, and have her miscarried away,
i get carryed away,
bruel force form my boot apon your face have you carried away,
i crave the darkside, like the inside of a beehive,
or the darkness of a coffin, while burried alive,
you'll bearly survive, a single day as you beg and pray,
but slowly and lonely you feel your life pass away,
welcome to my mind, the unkind, kind of mind,
filled with images, of unkind left behind,
its a strange place, take a peek behind my plain face,
you'll find a place, more degranged, than a mentel case,
im mentaly chased, around my mind by mirrorglass,
an image of myself, an oppisite, that never lasts,
deep down, i feel myself, drip with envy,
a bottle more of henisey can make me become your enimy,
mis spoken words, behind the scenes
exsistence seems, like a endless list of dreams,
that just seems, to go on, this is survivel,
and this is my arivel, making rivals suicidal.! ,
born to be a screw up,
thats why i never grew up,
i just brew up, enough shit, to make you spew up,
and cough up shit, run and call your friends when you get hit,
when you get bit, by the dog, inside this pencel tip,
im mentaly sick, but i phisicaly spit,
the most wickedest shit, you ever heard in this bitch,
im a little bit sick,a little bit gothic,
a slightly hypnotic, twisted version of lodgic,
no offence to any, im the sickest in the city,
amoung these counterfit pennys, im an orignal 50,
your words to me are like water on a ducks back
i just open my mouth and fuckin spit the words back,
and have the words crack, and shatter your eardrums,
i do this for fun, like drivebyes with pelletguns,
im a twisted product, of the 90's generation,
painting lyrical pictures, with sound illistration,
an audio oragsm, for your imagination,
so put me in your ipod, its musical masturbation,
my rhymes are mispoken words, verbs and letters disturbed,
that shud be cencored, if radioplay shud ever accor,
too much XTC, has my pupels dialting,
and the hash right next to me, it keeping me from concentrateing,
my mind is contantly spinning, my thoughts in unisin,
fucked up on cheep drugs, like a crackhead in a wheelybin
well thats it for me, must not stop recordin,
repsect to GMC, the gaff, and my boy DJ smithy!
