Fear and Loathing (prod. Simon illa) Songtext
von Kyle Lucas

(Ugh)
(Doing pretty good)
(Doing pretty good)
(Guess I′m doing pretty good for a Marietta kid)
Doing pretty good
Doing pretty good for a
Doing pretty good
Guess I'm doing pretty good for a Marietta kid


Ugh, say my music′s too dark
Really I'm like just fuck A&R's
Make a pop song, I could pop up the charts
Thanks but no thanks, rather follow my heart
I′d rather do what I was destined to do
I never played any hand I was dealt, instead I threw out the cards
This line that I walk′s not a walk in the park
Words all I got, I excelled in language arts
Then I dropped my mixtape, shit sounded like an album
A couple hundred thousand, downloads and counting
Meanwhile I'm back in Marietta feeling down some
Almost like I′m numb to success guess the valium
Is pumping through my veins and it's mixed with an ounce and
They saying I should change, but reasons I ain′t found none
Back at it with all of my bad habits
And it's almost black magic how I body a beat send in a casket
(Casket)
(Send in a casket)
(Casket)
(Send in a casket)
(Casket)
(Body a beat, send in a casket)


Grass is always greener on the other side
When I make it there, ′ima roll that grass to get high
How I rationalize minds, I adapt to survive
Shoot the deuce to the sky, I've been catching some vibes
On a fast track say I'm frat rap cause I′m white? (what?)
More like g rap if he was mixed with some tribe
Not to mention method man′ll make a mess of my lines
And plus a little big pun minus puns in my rhymes 'cause
You can save the jokes for the comedians
Ain′t nothing funny round here, the sinsemilla
Got me zoning out blending in like a chameleon
I'm higher than a ceiling fan, oh now these chicks feeling him
Swallow what they feeding ya′, questioning the media
Someone tell double xl don't fuck with mediums
Emcees blowing hot air like its helium
Ain′t even in my fucking lane like a median (median)
So now I listen to you rappers (rappers)
Got me questioning they passion
All they do is rap about clothes, like its fashion
All they do is rap about clubs, like the masters
Search for inspiration in a sea of imitation
Music's feeling stagnant ima' bring back innovation
I′m trying to clear my head not just chasing a paycheck
Losing my mind and not to mention my patience
(Losing my mind and not to)
(Losing my mind and not to)
(Losing my mind and not to)
Losing my mind and not to mention my patience

Now it′s back to square one
Mind running in circles
In the back of this tour van
That's where it comes from
I′m just trying not to hurt you

Six missed calls from six broads
And leaving six voicemails and they all sounding pissed off
Mounting on my conscience like a mountain this tall
Honestly, I'm astounded that I lasted this long (this long)
I don′t know the rules to being single (single)
That just leads to over thinking
In return burns and that leads to over drinking
I trying my hardest to harness my heart it keeps sinking
And running from my feelings makes it hard for them to sink in
No exceptions I deal with expression (expression)
I just write it all down, chips fall where they may
Then god sort them out (god sort them out)
And that what's separates me and you (me and you)
At least I know when I′m being used
Fucking puppet's are nothing
It's kind of fucking disgusting, can′t even think for yourself can′t even function
With somebody else's hand in your back I′d rather rap on percussion
I've grown accustomed to cussing I got these labels discussing
That if I toned it down they would go and double the budget
But im like fuck it, I ain′t bluffing or budging
Man this is me