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Grandpa Used To Carry a Flask

Mac Miller

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Grandpa Used To Carry a Flask

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What happens when I'm suicidal, vibrations up through my spinalfrom the hits to the vinyl, my mind will be in the bibleI will see the signs and I'll probably not understand a lotrode around town yesterday, straight from camelotthe prayers are not in common language, they don't mean a thingthe evil king of underworlds accumulating bodiesthis rap shit is turning into nothing but a hobbycuase' the pussy has already been fucked or in the lobby waitingdominating the matrix kick it with God and satanisolation through my veins, into these constellationsdrug users, they won't let us join the clubso now it's spanish bitch massage, give my joints a rubwhat's the purpose of everything, who the fuck cares?we run scared, cause nothing fair and we don't become awarepretend it don't exist, ignorance, the only blissI think it's me, well I hope it isbut no kids and no responsibilities, I'm writing soliloquiesand transcend visually, the intelligent idiots who never be seriouscause the world around is fucked up, so we'd rather get fucked up(my grandpa used to carry a flask)as I'm pacing back and forth, waiting till they pass the torchlife a bitch, about forty and a sad divorce, voice is hoarsegetting harder to speak, remarkable themestalk mark to the beastI saw them caught on the leash, we walk in common asleepand coffins talking to steven hawking, even we see it oftenso we close our eyes, hoping we forgot to dieshit it must have slipped my mind, whywell, I haven't seen a genuine smile in awhilemostly everybody stuck in denialso I'm coming out of cryogenics just to taste the airyou ain't aware... I'm talking about natalie the cattle eaterwith nasty featuresrapping with a flaccid wiener (shit) , that's only half a petertaking out the dogs, murder half a pita(no, no humus with that)yeah, look, having conversationswith myself, getting into argumentswhen I'm out in london, I be posted at the parliamentcoke in the parliaments, chilling by some monumentsominous when I feel your body with godly hollow tipsleave you holy, prepare for the apocalypsesixty thousand on a rollie, cookies with the chocolate chipsrapping hippopotamus, mother fuck a zookeeperI don't do features, I snort glue and shoot etherhand full of sleeping pills, it's only me I killI'm jack, wanna sleep with jill, she'd spill on my penis drillmr. Jesus can you save my life (yeah, yeah)looking at a mans casket (turn him into ham salad)how I'm feeling fantastic (the finish line, I ran past it]bitches love me because I got a tan phallus (get your house sandblasted)your damn ass kicked (damn, gladys)another fans ballad (and I demand gadgets at the sand palace)for away I amtrak it (my safe is great, a saint can't crack it)came through swagging in a all tan wagonwith the land of the dragons, I just stand for the balanceI'm just trying to play with my band on fallon, I don't got no talenthe's not dead, he's just delicious
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