BUILDING BLUEPRINT
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Lyrical Analysis of...
Robin Gunningham
- Sneaky drag smells, where backgrounds are mythic pulls of hist'ry's fog believed,
- To be blowin' balc' clouds, buildin' ash mounds, how the stress has got to me
- Not a single hand found during any crash out, I just persisted onwardly
- And I've collapsed down on every last round, 'til my fists could hardly breathe;
- But lunged my lungs, and made my voice get hoarser,
- When I snuck a punch—witness a hoisted shoulder quickly summon blood like a foisted mortar,
- At the corrupted scum that it's pointed towards, they can suck my nuts but I know I'm older, not a younger pup, they get moist pre growth spurts
- And these ugly cucks're why we pinch coins and quarters? Guess it's kinda funny once you can't avoid the o bsurds,
- I ain't outta touch it sucks watching shit boil over into a bunch of uncertainty and growing con cern,
- In all what they're up to 'yond the ploy of ownership playin' sucker to husked men in a koi persona,
- Just to run our pumps, but we got well oiled motors
- And how many of our shovels dug all the soiled mourners,
- Wonder why we succumb distrust for a paranoia that'd coerce,
- Decoys and cloners; do you guys have any idea how much gettin' thunderstruck on my foiled dome hurts?...
- And in if we can be up to snuff on ongoing norms worsenin' our struggles stuck inside a coil, moreover
- Until then I'm just like whatever is going on sure isn’t in my control huh, so I guess I'll enjoy this order...
- Of my nutty lunch of bok choy and hors d'oeuvres with a buttered bun and LaCroix, (coastered)...
- And like when you cut a stump as a closeness warner—I'm gonna get back, to when I lept hacks;
- When I lunged my lungs and made my voice get hoarser, think my gut reflux hates Almond Joys in tartar,
- Sorry these gummies done a number on me like I'm going over, the double mustards like a poignant roadster
- Uhh, fuck was I saying? I fuckin'.. Uhh, I'll fuckin' uppercut Trump's most loyal soldiers,
- Watch 'em end stomach up as some joist explorers, to spot atop the puppets strung to destroy what's Kosher
- Bet I'd get a buzz on Rumble or mentioned in Reuters' homework,
- Journalists wordin' stern blurbs of how observers heard a ruptured crunch to Nazi sphenoids in horror,
- That's for stuntin' tongues and exploitin' poker, that's for guttin' us so thin our employment won't work
- For not havin' a mug a mother loved to havin' that boy look forward, to unbunchin' those undies by destroyin' the whole world,
- Brazenly shut us up by gargoylin' our Jokers, god damn
- Nothing will save your name pussy
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