Lyrics Gonzo Journalism - GDP

Gonzo Journalism

Fifty through an E-Z Pass, blasting Black Sabbath
Driving to Manhattan on a head full of acid
Then put the blunt out on the dash before the tunnel
I’m spun and got an interview in twenty
Bump ups so by the time I’m at the club I’m sobered up
Rambling on while some freelancer pretends to be familiar with my catalogue
Where you from?
West Orange
Describe your style.
Retarded
What’s the Hip Hop scene like on the East Coast these days?
HOT garbage
What kinda drugs you do?
All of 'em
Favorite food?
Hot sauce
Weapon of choice?
Ball point pen
Where you shop?
Division East, but people give me clothes for free
Favorite venue?
Meatlocker where no-goods would smoke leak up in the sideroom
I be high too, cheers and brews with dudes that ain’t never finished high school
Rough and young is the fuck up for animal blood
Two hundred kids, one unisex bathroom covered in mud
I’m just glad to be piss-drunk in such good company
And let the tumbleweed bring out the inner monk in me
Like if the sound system’s busted, then fuck the beat and catch wreck to an a
capell-- suckers
Leave.
(Get them out of there.)