The Art of Dying

Lyrics

[Verse 1: Goretex] Life's riddles are strange, I'm sick of the days, the Art of Dying In my heart of hearts symbolize change, witness the pain Blocks of free cheese, Becky sold her crib for coke Slept with the baby and crushed her ribs in the middle of smoke Close encounters, pedophiles in schools posing as janitors Background checks where they collected the death tolls from Canada Acura shootouts under my windows filled with passengers Throwbacks splattered with brains, zip them up with no bandages Anybody gets it, somebody wetted JMJ No respect for his craft, shot in his face Laughed and they ran away Too many massacres, too many babies pass away I'm only blasting to comfort you humans in the last days [Hook] We turn the page, the inner self, it's the art of dying The book of change, wise blood, we never stopped climbing Time be moving too fast, it's just the art of dying Police sirens, no food in the fridge, mama's crying We turn the page, the inner self, it's the art of dying The book of change, wise blood, we never stopped climbing Time be moving too fast, it's just the art of dying Police sirens, surviving this life, mama's dying [Verse 2: Goretex] I asked God if I'm redeemed at all, for things I seen and did As a kid I grew up foul with bitterness from being poor Beat up Pumas and pants, didn't understand Fighting with mom, the pizza place don't take food stamps I'm losing my grip, everybody's pops was strict My uncle was cool till the cancer devoured his dick I never looked back, I buried more souls than I knew Eulogies so familiar to me, tears and the stench of glue Predict Apocalypse, cynic visions of two Mini images of towers falling and women consumed These killers have proved it boils down to oil and food Another newscast hovers the clouds to poison the mood [Hook] [Verse 3: Goretex] Prescriptions we don't need, religion we don't feed Get the Henny out, selling up V's and smoking trees Stay tanked up, double shanks up, spiritually bankrupt Walk through Canarsie like big banging, getting my gangs up These little hoes selling checks for stoges Trading your diapers for Dutches, benefits for clothes Hocking freebies, she rocking on socks stinking of feces Video bitches, easy to pop, most are disease freaks Shorty with five seeds and three in her face Wilding out, smoking krills up, puffing up in the baby's face Get him some Ritalin quick, he turns killer when He starts illing, never got love, never to live again Who break the cycle, his life is only to kill again Once innocent but the hatred's turning on him again [Hook]