Search results for 'cane reed'

Intolerable heat, drives insane,
The crippled prey escaped the nest
Lost in the jungle, draped in pestilence
Humidity accelerates decay
Intestines falling out, entwined in reeds
Guts cling to cane Rotting alive,
the hearts deteriorates inside his Worm infested chest,
vermin is attracted by stench of his dead esophagus

Too hot to not to rot
Massive blood loss delirium prevails
Breathing hard, yellow pus clots in throat
Festering organics ravaged by insects and snakes

This is the
This is the jungle rot
This swamp is your grave, deformed flesh will bloat
Skin drops with sweat, bones exposed
Gangrene sets in, larvae feed off
This is the jungle rot
Trail of intestines from flesh to filth
Rotting into sludge the human fertilizer
An atrophied desiccant in semiparalysis

Foul odor spreads,  maggots and insects begin to colonize
Permeate dissolving meat,  through open sores  they crawl inside
Dripping brains, massive hemorrhage, rotting human fertilizer

An atrophied desiccant in semiparalysis

Carnivore to cadaver
Skinless stump, formless lump

Bones are melt, organs swelled
Leaving no corpse, you will decompose
Starving dead, liquefied
Fertilized, the graveyard ground

graveyard ground
you will rot
graveyard ground

They say I'm different 'cause I'm a piece of sugar cane
Sweet to the core, that's why I got rhythm
My great grandma didn't like the foxtrot
Nah, instead she'd spit her snuff and boogie to Elmore James

They say I'm different 'cause I eat chitlins
I can't help it I was born and raised on'em, that's right
Every mornin' I'd have to slop the hogs
And they'd be gettin' off humpin' to John Lee Hooker

They say I'm different 'cause I'm a piece of sugar cane
And when I kick my legs, I got rhythm
My great grandpa was a blues lover
He'd be rockin' his moonshine to B.B.

The choir sang of chlorophyl
Though every three-inch blade was sharp
Someone was the first to lift a leaf
Put thumb to thumb and thumbs to lips and blow
The dandelion roars all by itself
Good for some, but this reed needs a hand
A human hand
Hey! Spin me 'round
I'm greener on the other side!
The dandelion shook his mane
He's got the hots for Sugar Cane
To my friends Snail, Snake and Stone
And of course the brothers Weed and Worm
This cattail, it goes on
On the average suburban lawn
Crew cut, turf ranch
Patented roots and shoots
Gene splice, dead bugs
Herbs aside countywide
Subdued army, mown and blown
Wild wind unknown
(Though they make the grain trains run on time)
We're the same as we ever were
We're nothing like we ever were
My buggy, sticky, stony friends
Beetle babes with smug and smirky mugs
This new testament of pastoral fantasy
Does not preach decay's fertility
It can't recall the tune of reed held close
That pleats the air with an ancient, itchy song
Put thumb to thumb and thumbs to lips and blow.

L'amore è una cosa bellissima,
ma non per te, che non hai tempo per certe cose. 
E ti preoccupi del tempo, ti preoccupi del cane, 
la droga non è più buona e va tutto a puttane, mentre il disco di Lou Reed non smette di girare.

Sun rises in short breaths and the sun
Cringes away
From them who come to drag us back to hell
Brothers light the porch light keep them demons all at bay
Don't you sleep upon your back up in the mountains
Summer
Summer comes to fool you don't you listen to those sounds
For they are witches hiding in the reeds
Summer
Summer comes to hurt you gonna drag your heart around
For nothing ever can be what it seems
Summer
I will build a chariot to take us all away
But do not carry more than what you need
I will hold your baby pass her over here to me
Yes I will hold your baby take the reigns
Who will bring a shovel for to dig untimely graves
At dawn so blessed to rest and not know hate
We will
We will
We'll descend in purple to the valley of the kings
Yes we'll descend in purple feathered wings
Glory is no pedestal I'll put my foot upon
But who knows what ends justify the means
They will
They will
They will find our chariot in pieces in the bog
With god and cotton, war and sugar cane
I will hold your baby pass her over here to me
Yes I will hold your baby, take the reigns
My horses they will drag us from this hell
My horses they will drag us from this hell

Couple dollars in my pocket I might leave this shit in Gucci
My mama called me about the shots, but she ain't know I'm with the shooters
Lil bro need some stuffers told that nigga go to Hooters
Tre Tre blocked on Lyft now a nigga punching all the Ubers
Cut straight into a bitch like I ain't nothing that you used to
When this shit touch I'm a take a trip to Houston
You can't even put your man's on some cheese, and he broke you niggas useless
Bag got the whole block stinking boy this bitch boofing
Even back at school, I was focused on my paper
I'm in the game you're in the bleachers, I can see why niggas hating
Shit I done ran out of love and I ran out of favors
Bitches screaming child support but I can't wait to see them papers
Catch that fish bowl in traffic Lil nigga I'm a paint it
I ain't running to no color money Lil bitch I'm skating
Skate team
My girl and the bro's got my location shit be getting iffy
Glock shoot a little different because this bitch got a switchy
Lame niggas trying to grind with me, I ain't Pretty Ricky
I ain't stopping at no red light at night, it's going to be hard to get me
Brody say he got the cane in I ain't talking 50
You can't even jump in this spaceship if you wasn't walking with me
A&Rs always in my views I be talking different
Ed Reed on my block boy I be hawking niggas
Ed Reed on my block boy I be hawking niggas
Peanut butter in my wood got me coughing different
This a four of drop, not no motherfucking coffee nigga

Hear the wind come whistling through the treetops
c gale blows and branches clash like wood blocks
Fallen leaves start whispering, it comes rustling /and gusting

Making unexpected things make music
Hollow seeds, and bamboo canes, and dry sticks  

cny kind of hole through which it passes /makes noises
The wind, /the wind, /the wind, /the wind 

Filling up the forest with its singing
Day and night the wind, the wind is blowing

cn orchestra of instruments, the leaves and /the tree trunks
Reed stems and fruit stones, bamboo and pine cones

Gotta do my little dance with my silver cane and my big top hat
Cus they're not gonna do me like they did Lou Reed
I can tell you that
They shipped me off here with the rest of the queers and I guess that that's the score
You don't have to think when you're working for the lord

Well I met him at the edge of camp
Over by the latrines
The real thing wet with sweat n tears n Vaseline 
Pretty soon the others boys caught wind and they found my boy and the cornered him and they tore my baby limb from limb

In that moment I saw the face of Jesus Christ
He said: "You gotta fight for your right to survive or it'll be like this for the rest of your life"
I heard him loud n clear

Well it started in the dining hall until it caught the breeze and it hit the trees
By the time they realized there wasn't much that anyone could do
SIXTEEN DEAD is what the papers said
All it takes is a match and the go-ahead
You don't have to think when you're working for the lord

And I'm not worried about some future that I can't see
But the highway there belongs to me
And I'm not gonna give it to them willingly
I heard him loud and clear

And I would be a weedhead too 
If I would stick to you
To the things you do 
I know what drugs are for 
Don't tell me
You are boring as hell 
Staying high all the time 
Is boring as well 
Then you go high as hell 

So on you have to keep smoking 
Keep on joking
No matter if you enjoy it
It's your style now 
You should leave behind now 
You surrounded yourself
With weird parties
Drunk emo barbies
Would be fun if someone dies 
It's your style now 
You should leave behind now 

I’m all for fun with friends
But there is a difference
Between fun and what you do 
"Daily drugs" is your new perfume
(yeah)
Xan, weed, candy cane
Stuff that floats through your veins 
One day will kill you
"Daily drugs" is your new perfume 
(yeah)

I don't think you're ok 
I don't think you're ok 
Honey 
Please take care of yourself
I’ve already lost a couple of friends 
I don’t think you’re ok 
I don’t think you’re ok 
Honey 
I'm worried that you might be next

Indeed
You've lost control it seems 
Exchanged it for quick relief 
Adopted drugs as your bare needs 
When you come back home
Alone
Yet surrounded by a crowd
That is talking too much about
Your deadly habits and venom on the tongue 
You want to shake that off 
Shake that off
But you can't its a mindset now 
You want to shake that off 
Shake that off
But you can't its a mindset now 
You want to get reed of it
But its already part of you
You cannot just stop and quit 
But when is time for something new 

I’m all for fun with friends
But there is a difference
Between fun and what you do 
"Daily drugs" is your new perfume
(yeah)
Xan, weed, candy cane
Stuff that floats through your veins 
One day will kill you
"Daily drugs" is your new perfume 
(yeah)

I don't think you're ok 
I don't think you're ok 
Honey 
Please take care of yourself
I’ve already lost a couple of friends 
I don’t think you’re ok 
I don’t think you’re ok 
Honey 
I'm worried that you might be next

Tell me why you're high 
All the (all the) time
Tell me why you're high 
All the (all the) time
Tell me why you're high 
All the (all the) time
Tell me why you're high 
All the (all the) time

I’m all for fun with friends
But there is a difference
Between fun and what you do 
"Daily drugs" is your new perfume
(yeah)
Xan, weed, candy cane
Stuff that floats through your veins 
One day will kill you
"Daily drugs" is your new perfume 
(yeah)
I’m all for fun with friends
But there is a difference
Between fun and what you do 
"Daily drugs" is your new perfume
(yeah)
Xan, weed, candy cane
Stuff that floats through your veins 
One day will kill you
"Daily drugs" is your new perfume 
(yeah)

:Flourished Amongst Dear * Viewer’s*
The folllowing message ID#00298484 Submitted by : (Member ID /ASCAP MemberName)
I*F£0URi$H€D AM0NGST REED$* by CHAOZ 
ISRC:QZQWG2089424
ISWC :T3054855260
BMI Work ID:51242664
Register ID # 912194541
IPI: 1016619187

ASCAP // IPI:1016619187
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Copyrights :  This was writen by Hugo Marquez  & the intention of confirmation
Of  full Copyright’s.

They say I'm different 'cause I'm
A piece of sugar cane
Sweet to the core that's why I got rhythm
My great grandma didn't like the foxtrot
Nah, instead she'd spit her snuff and
Boogie till she was drive

They say I'm different 'cause
I eat chitlins i can't help it I was
Born and raised on 'em, that's right
Every mornin' I'd have to slop the hogs
And they'd be gettin' off humpin'
To John Lee Hooker

They say I'm different 'cause I'm
A piece of sugar cane
And when I kick my legs, I got rhythm
My great grandpa was a blues lover
He'd be rockin' his moonshine to
BB king and Jimmy Reed, rock

And that's why they say I'm different
And that's why they say I'm strange

I'm talkin' 'bout Big Momma Thornton
I'm talkin' 'bout Lightning Hopkins
I'm talkin' 'bout Howling Wolf
I'm talkin' 'bout Albert King chuck Berry
Chuck Berry chuck Berry
When I was sweet sixteen

And that's why they say I'm different
And that's why you think I'm strange

I'm talkin' bout T-Bone Walker
I'm talkin' 'bout Muddy Waters
I'm talkin' 'bout Leadbelly sonny Terry
Brownie McGhee and Freddie King

Bessie Smith bessie Smith
Oh hey bo Diddley have you heard me

That's why they say I'm different
That's why, why they say I'm strange
That's why they say I'm funky
Little Richard wow you sure showed 'em
You sure could sing it

Robert Johnson robert Johnson
Robert Johnson he played the blues for me

And that's why and that's why
And that's why they say I'm different

And that's why and that's why
And that's why they say I'm strange

And that's (why why why why)
And that's (why why why why)
And that's (why why why why)
(why why why why)
They say I'm funky, funky
Funky, funky, funky, yeah
Ooh funky, funky, funky, funky, funky, yeah

They say I'm different 'cause I'm a piece of sugar cane
and when I kick my legs I got rhythm
My Great Grandpa was a blues lover
He be rockin his moonshine to B.B.

Yo you can have her

Ay, pipe down, I'm taking names
No write down
He wanna talk, and he catching a cane
You know that I ain't mean strikeouts
Pipe down, I need some big racks right now
She want it I buy it, I'm keeping
Her quiet, I'm giving her pipe
And she pipe down

Bitch, I suggest that you pipe down
Heard they want smoke
Light 'em up like a pipe now
Met 'em, wet 'em up, no leak in the pipe now
Stomp they ass out for a
Brick, if they're bitching
That bitch she get pipe now right now
Told the motherfuckers on sight now
Been talking hot online
But they say sike now
It's surprised however the fuck you
Thinking I would lit up
It's like them eighty nine
Reed box pushing mega hit with a pump
He got a bill up on his head
But I ain't letting him duck
I ran up for the ski mask
Now we definitely slumped
And I don't care if you're giving it up
But ain't a prettiest slut
Then I give it a fuck and it's all facts
Dawg
Picking count just like it is all racked up
Touché the competition, it's all last, dawg
Matter fact, just like them bitches
Who all left, dawg, then
Ay, she said you her boy
But she told me I been the man
This bitches straight build like my pistol
They stick to my hip, if they're lit
They don't miss their mask
This shit not a game, boy, sure
That I'll flat you square
So the cartridge load in advance
Send the whistle rats if I
See 'em try butt in, i keep it
Three hundred, their death gon' be sudden
Run up, and they're run in, so pipe down

Ay, pipe down, I'm taking names
No write down
He wanna talk, and he catching a cane
You know that I ain't mean strikeouts
Pipe down, I need some big racks right now
She want it I buy it, I'm keeping
Her quiet, I'm giving her pipe
And she pipe down
Ay, pipe down, I'm taking names
No write down
He wanna talk, and he catching a cane
You know that I ain't mean strikeouts
Pipe down, I need some big racks right now
She want it I buy it, I'm keeping
Her quiet, I'm giving her pipe
And she pipe down

I'ma do my best, momma, stay away from that dope
Leave these bitches hanging but I ain't out of rope
Wanna swim in Christian but I am not the pope
Watch the vibe change as I walk up in the room, bitch
Dirty streets, all my hooligans keep a broom, bitch
All my brothers fast forward like we was in Click, bitch
You get caught up at the red light
Bitch, you better get your head right
All these letters from attorneys but it ain't no help
See me up in public, you gon' call for help
Got my mind on my murder, murder on my mind
I'ma leave your mama crying
Ain't tryna get locked up, ain't no motherfucking time
If I'm locked up, who be waiting for me on the other side, man
Fuck the fakes, I'm the only one who really finna ride
Wash this club out, ain't no motherfucking tide
Everybody end up beefing, why I gotta keep a beamy
Ghetto bitches wanna see me, leave them hanging high and creamy
Glock with a beamy for the homies think I'm easy, so we dance like Grease
I'ma leave your home boy wheezing, I don't need no reason
Hop on the track like you in the same league as me
Taking my cut, shipping straps internationally
Tell me, would you really die for me
Tell me, would you really cry for me
Write because I can do no wrong
And the features I got is the top of they songs
Came a long way from those petty crimes
Now I build a empire off of these fucking rhymes
I'll fuck anybody up, they rat about my brother
Your light burn bright, so we finna get you smothered
Days I slept in rain, smoking dope for the pain
Say fuck it, to the vein, streaming right to my brain
I don't smoke with no lames, I ain't smoking with you, man
Boy a runner, this is not Olympic games
(This is not Olympic games)
(Your ass is not Usain)
(I'ma put you in a Russian Cream)
(And smoke in front of Cane's)
Hop in the back, now you in the same court as me
Shut the fuck up, you not in the same league as me
I been making money grow off trees
I'm about my honey, I ain't talking bees
I been rolling, say my price too steep
I ain't hear a peep, white girl pressing in the Jeep
All these checks I read, I feel like Aaron Reed
I'm on Tiger Woods shit, I guarantee
(Ain't tryna get locked up, ain't no motherfucking time)
(If I'm locked up, who be waiting for me on the other side, man)
(Fuck the fakes, I'm the only one who really finna ride)
(Wash this club out, ain't no motherfucking tide)
(Everybody end up beefing, why I gotta keep a beamy)
(Ghetto bitches wanna see me, leave them hanging high and creamy)
(Glock with a beamy for the homies think I'm easy, so we dance like Grease)
(I'ma leave your home boy wheezing, I don't need no reason)

I'ma do my best, momma, stay away from that dope
Leave these bitches hanging but I ain't out of rope
Wanna swim in Christian but I am not the pope
Watch the vibe change as I walk up in the room, bitch
Dirty streets, all my hooligans keep a broom, bitch
All my brothers fast forward like we was in Click, bitch
You get caught up at the red light
Bitch, you better get your head right
All these letters from attorneys but it ain't no help
See me up in public, you gon' call for help
Got my mind on my murder, murder on my mind
I'ma leave your mama crying
Ain't tryna get locked up, ain't no motherfucking time
If I'm locked up, who be waiting for me on the other side, man
Fuck the fakes, I'm the only one who really finna ride
Wash this club out, ain't no motherfucking tide
Everybody end up beefing, why I gotta keep a beamy
Ghetto bitches wanna see me, leave them hanging high and creamy
Glock with a beamy for the homies think I'm easy, so we dance like Grease
I'ma leave your home boy wheezing, I don't need no reason
Hop on the track like you in the same league as me
Taking my cut, shipping straps internationally
Tell me, would you really die for me
Tell me, would you really cry for me
Write because I can do no wrong
And the features I got is the top of they songs
Came a long way from those petty crimes
Now I build a empire off of these fucking rhymes
I'll fuck anybody up, they rat about my brother
Your light burn bright, so we finna get you smothered
Days I slept in rain, smoking dope for the pain
Say fuck it, to the vein, streaming right to my brain
I don't smoke with no lames, I ain't smoking with you, mane
Boy a runner, this is not Olympic games
This is not Olympic games
Your ass is not Usain
I'ma put you in a Russian Cream
And smoke in front of Cane's
Hop in the back, now you in the same court as me
Shut the fuck up, you not in the same league as me
I been making money grow off trees
I'm about my honey, I ain't talking bees
I been rolling, say my price too steep
I ain't hear a peep, white girl pressing in the Jeep
All these checks I read, I feel like Aaron Reed
I'm on Tiger Woods shit, I guarantee
(Ain't tryna get locked up, ain't no motherfucking time)
(If I'm locked up, who be waiting for me on the other side, man)
(Fuck the fakes, I'm the only one who really finna ride)
(Wash this club out, ain't no motherfucking tide)
(Everybody end up beefing, why I gotta keep a beamy)
(Ghetto bitches wanna see me, leave them hanging high and creamy)
(Glock with a beamy for the homies think I'm easy, so we dance like Grease)
(I'ma leave your home boy wheezing, I don't need no reason)

Rows full of gold
She drove in the snow
Murder she wrote
Yeah
Cocaine Dreams in the kitchen sink
She had Cocaine Dreams in the kitchen sink
Ask me if my watch real
What the fuck you think
Ask me if my chain real
What the fuck you think
Cocaine Dreams in the kitchen sink
She had Cocaine Dreams in the kitchen sink
Ask me if my watch real
What the fuck you think
Ask me if my chain real
What the fuck you think
Smoking something stank ooh
Getting to that bank ooh
Making major bank moves
Show me what that brain do
She asking for a bump
She begging us to fuck
My gang is Gucci bitch
This ain't no Lil' Pump
Big Pimpin' in this bitch like I'm Biggie Poppa
If the bitch don't wanna fuck she could see a doctor
In my wood I roll an eighth only smoking Choppas
Got a Guru everywhere shout out Blarry Lobster
Catch a Uber everywhere them police cannot find us
I told Brody tuck that shit them blue and reds behind us
Then he hit 120 said they'll never catch up
Told me JayReed you gon' make it they could never match up
Then she offered me a line but I ain't into that stuff
Then she asked me 'bout my chain and why I never keep it tucked
'Cause I know them niggas pussy and I never gave a fuck
I'm just tryna wash my hands but you too busy cleaning up.

Reed, you not no Jake
She call the shots, you ain't got no say
Where your money, you ain't got no bank
I'm broke, I'll take your pay
On her knees, but she don't pray
Pulling up, that's yellow tape
Slide through, that's y' tape

I palazzi sono fitti e non ti vedo più
La strada ha dato lezioni e lasciato lesioni
Sono emozioni morte se le esponi
Non tirar fuori note se le stoni
Milano nevica: Estonia, che storia
Lei guarda quei fiori grandi, celestoni
Per ogni tattoo in fondo c'è una storia
Che per ogni passo fatto tre ceffoni
Ne ho amata una
L'ho amata tutta d'un botto
Mi ha scritto brutte canzoni
Poi solo freddo prezioso, lingotto
Che manco mi bastano tuta e calzoni
Tutto il contrario, la vita dopo la morte
Sì, quella vita che fotte
La stessa vita che incarna il sicario
Che pa-p paura se coccola a volte
Ma dimmi tu se, dimmi tu se, dimmi tu se
Se per sbagliare non sono il gourmet
Buchi ad un braccio, beh, dimmi tu se
Non devi dirmi touché
Io da elevato divido il pane con gli altri
Né bullo, né bullizzato
Non fare il cane coi gatti
Ventricoli caldi, ho il sangue nebulizzato

Ci siamo visti tra i ragazzi tristi
Avevo solo il whisky e le mie Winston blu
Ci siamo visti tra i ragazzi tristi
Avevo solo il whisky e le mie Winston blu

Ma io sto bene quando piove
Piove, piove, piove, piove
Ma io sto bene quando piove
Piove, piove, piove, piove

Ci credi, ci siamo puliti ma
Più sedo la sorte, più litiga
Fuori una notte blu libica
Copro una pelle di morte bulimica
Piove sopra quelle ciglia nere
Pare tu pianga, ma di piacere
Tra me e il cielo hai fatto da paciere
So che cedo solo quando papà cede
Soffio fuori la condensa
L'anima pesa, il freddo la compensa
La notte sembra muta, ma conversa
Veste di pioggia, sembra una contessa
Guarda negli occhi 'sta bonne nuit
Tagli negli occhi alla Buñuel
Pallidi e azzurri come Lou Reed
Dopo i pugni sugli occhi le Bonduelle
Ritorno in piazza, ma con i senior
Sì, mascherati alla Corey Taylor
Mentre io canto tra cuore e seno
Mamma vive creando, che muore meno
Ho una canna nel palmo senza cartina
E sembra l'anima mia che non trova corpo
Amami tu che io sono a corto
Io da quaggiù me ne sono accorto
Lo Stato pagasse le buone azioni
Sarebbe un mondo di santi ricchi
Le mie prigioni hanno spalti fitti
Distillo emozioni come alambicchi (Yeah)
Ho i guantoni come Micky (Eh)
Le visioni come Mitty (Eh)
Lei mi chiede: "A quanti whisky sei?"