Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Living in My Own Head, artist - Diabolic. Album song Fightin Words Instrumentals, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 26.01.2015
Record label: Warhorse
Song language: English
Living in My Own Head |
Yo, I’m your live tour guide to see what I saw |
See how my street’s an eye sore like styes deep inside pores |
I see myself as a beast combined with Guy Forbes |
Who feels the need to rhyme and lead the blind like seeing eye dogs |
I’ll die for what I believe, what we’d survive for |
Beefing with evil crime lords who creep with a team of cyborgs |
Coming at me with knives, swords, and nines. |
I’m squeezing mine towards |
Fighting ‘til hell is freezing, with demons screaming, «My lord!» |
I’ll redefine raw, started deep in my core |
Whoever wants to set it off can feel free—July 4th |
They say my mind’s off and ‘Bolic's got too strange |
Like Bush, Saddam Hussein, and Obama watching Loose Change |
I’m ‘bout as humane as pouring pots of butane |
On you like drops of new rain and lighting the hottest blue flame |
Mixing shots of Ukraine vodka with toxic new strains |
Of pot and watching you lames rot atop the food chain |
Living in my own head, I’m a monster |
The voices in my skull said, «Do what you got ta» |
You are broke with no bread, so do it proper |
Danger, this is code red. |
No one can stop us |
Yo, my conduct provokes sluts that I trust are dolts |
Like, «'Bolic's got screws loose. |
He always drops nuts and bolts» |
That’s a fucking joke, ho. |
You would open wide |
Expecting me to dump a load, so it should cum/come as no surprise |
You should sit at home and cry until you blow a guy |
And show your bipolar side with lows and highs like ocean tides |
I keep an open eye and focus my attention |
Or they’ll multiply like Gremlins soaked by the hose of a fire engine |
They’ll vocalize attention on some «Crush, Kill, Destroy» |
Stress and, when there’s nothing left, yes, I must fill the void |
I’m the real McCoy, sorry that I’m not respectful |
Dr. Jekyll’s drugs are in my blood at a toxic level |
I’m all gassed up—sparking this is flammable |
Exploding ‘cause they’re marketing these parlour tricks as magical |
I’m ‘bout as rational as starving vicious animals |
But still full of myself like a narcissistic cannibal |
Living in my own head, I’m a monster |
The voices in my skull said, «Do what you got ta» |
You are broke with no bread, so do it proper |
Danger, this is code red. |
No one can stop us |
I love my kids but hate the way their mothers talk |
Whores breaking balls like Roy Hobbs knocking a cover off |
I’m fucking lost. |
But who am I without the stress? |
Without the bills, bouncing checks? |
Without the countless debt? |
I’m in the booth, feeling like I died a thousand deaths |
While fans say, «Why the fuck haven’t you dropped your album yet?» |
I’ve been a recluse, choosing to be on house arrest |
And, honestly, I need to change a Little like I’m Malcolm X |
Graff writer turned rapper, running out of breath |
Same story, painting masterpieces with the alphabet |
The day I sell’s an omen. |
The gates of Hell are frozen |
People sleep more than narcoleptics taking melatonin |
My brain cells were chosen, DNA’ll shape shift |
The Anunnaki going kamikaze in his space ship |
I’m a silverback gorilla going ape shit |
King Kong pounding his chest, Empire State shit |
Living in my own head, I’m a monster |
The voices in my skull said, «Do what you got ta» |
You are broke with no bread, so do it proper |
Danger, this is code red. |
No one can stop us |