Lyrics Generator - Doomtree

Generator

Uh, generation generators
Uh, spark up the accelerator
Uh, gas pedal, gas pedal
Push it, push it
This is «never settle»
Clock 'em all day, chunk 'em all night
Looking for a fight
Lean to the right or leave on your left
Lean to the chest, drink to that bite
Fuck around and swing on a bigger man
Bing bing bing bing
Ding ding, the bell ring in my head
Shaved clean off the cleaver head
Now the dude tink tink
Click when he blink down the ramp of the minivan
Cuffs clink when they link round the wrist and I think
When I’m gonna sleep when I’m gonna eat again?
Give a what what you think
Give a none less what you gonna do about
In the Minne we penny pinching
Any inch and we take a mile, style with a double pitching, fix in a cinch
Have a Coke and a smirk, I’ll smack the taste out your shirt
Rushdie that or run a check
Catch a fade or catch respect
Move (move) around with a gat from a gun show
Middle of a murder ‘Merica, murder murder not scareda ya
Yeah I hearda ya, crew out like a hernia
We out
Stop
Had a rough one, the type make a man wanna jump from the top
And it sucks, make a tough wanna chuck hella rocks at the cops
But he stuck with his middle finger up looking dumb on the block
Out of luck with his generator dry tryna find a way to not die
Hot-wired, open in the out there, no shade
Going for the next wave, close shave
But he running out the clock though
Rock those in their silly ass faces
Yeah, any damn day
I’ma reach out, you can touch faith
They can douse mud, we can soak bleach
Teach, work, live, speak that Doomtree
Uh, generation generators
Uh, spark up the accelerator
Uh, gas pedal, gas pedal
Push it, push it
This is «never settle»
Uh, this is my theme song
Hard as the brick that I cut my teeth on
Soft as the science made you
Push it, push it, push it
Farther, louder, harder
Full figure — nah full fact
Bad with a ten-key, better with a black Bic
Ratchet clip for a garter belt
Going Sally Hansen, nails hard as hell
Is that moonshine in a champagne flute?
Old English in a new tattoo?
What we do to be last the man standing
Break an ankle to stick the landing
And I’ll be singing in the silo, let that echo clear my head
Learn to tolerate the iocane, got real good at playing dead
Call to arms young statuettes
Coquetting’s clever yet, but
Venus de Milo’s better with her bayonet