Lyrics Spell It Out - Cult Mountain

Spell It Out

Ya, ya, ya, ya, one two one two
Ya, ya ya, uh (pscht, skrrt)
Yuh, eh
I flick the god channel on
Then I hit the remote
This is Christian rap
Sharing a Spliff with a Pope
You think you’re the goat
I turn you into a coat
I’m just try’na get a grip
But that’s a slippery slope
Life’s an ignorant joke
I’m too ignorant to get
I slip and kill ya pet with a dead goldfish’s intellect
I meditate on a mountain like I’m living in Tibet
Then I set meself alight and lit a cigarette
I stumble through a verse impatient as a
Accidentally triple spin kick you in the neck
I lift the chicken breast, then I hit your pigeon chest
Clean me act up, but me kitchens still a mess
I’m as thick as a plank, with an enormous IQ
I’m gone with the wind, cause me chain weighs more than I do
Throwing up blood, but I ain’t talking Piru
I’m speaking the truth, but you’ve all been lied to
I’m not sorry if I fucked up
You wan’t my help
Well I would but
Fuckin thumbs up, middle finger
Dumb struck, know I love to hate
But I ain’t love much, nah
Pinky ring cutting off my circulation
Gucci sweatband pricy persperation
Scars on my skin like it’s dermal abrasion
Who you calling bruv?
I ain’t ya first relation
Swinging round the world now the globe is shaking
Just enough gold to be worth my waiting
It was worth the waiting
Just enough time to exert my patience like
Choker chain cutting on my resperation
Hockey mask and a sweater feel like I’m fucking Jason
I lit a cigarette in a petrol station
Yeah iI’m too sick iI need my medication
Devil Gang but I ain’t a friend of Satan
My birds spinning round in a circle like she
Been a little while since I checked the basement
I wasn’t even in the crib when the feds were raiding, like
I’m not sorry if I fucked up
You wan’t my help
Well I would but
Fuckin thumbs up, middle finger
Dumb struck, know I love to hate
But I ain’t love much, nah
I am Trellion retired, slept for a thousand years
But still I’ve never been this tired
No amount of drugs could get him any higher
Than I am already, damaged Trelly
Swegging on an adversary
Bitches ass and titties on, Halle Berry
Ninety Nine, dripping like a 99
I’m thinking that it might be time
Maybe I should (I dunno)
Fuck it, back to selling crack
Keep it on me never lack
Milli rock to hell and back
Pockets still on Jenny’s sack
What’s good?
Look love, long as you can cook good
Look good and suck good, fuck love
I’m not sorry if I fucked up
You wan’t my help
Well I would but
Fuckin thumbs up, middle finger
Dumb struck, know I love to hate
But I ain’t love much, nah