Digits - Godemis, infO Gates

I’ve been watching opera hopping up around in here

Say whatever comes to mind it feels like I’m finna

Rearrange your brain like I was Doctor Mindbender

Dipping in the van that’s got the little round window

Why I’m up at this hour, I did it with a cup of joe

Keep a couple mason jars, I think that’s where the guts’ll go

Just because you paint your face you’re not a fucking juggalo

Cut off your tweetin fingers, cook 'em up in E-V-Double-O

We are here to entertain

Losers in the winner’s lane

People casting looks when I’m like «Dude I didn’t get a chance»

All I ever wanted was a shot and so I can’t complain

Cut us open plain and drew the inspiration from the pain

This is black magic, faggot, you cannot carry the flame

Hard to hold a candle standing in November Rain

Satisfy the Deevil even still some sort of temper came

Off hilter-kilter made his father fucking music strange

Well I am so high that I can finger fuck pigeons

Point your finger at me, your finger’s fucking missing

(Man listen, mind your manners get back can you dig it?

I’m a leave out this mother holding a bag full of digits)

Well I am so high, finger-fuck a pigeon

Point your finger at me, your finger’s fucking missing

(Man listen, micromanage get back can you dig it?

I’m a leave out this mother holding a bag full of digits

Dig it?)

What cause you not Ces, fuck this guy, huh?

Huh?!

I’m sipping liquor, sitting on this head of a decapitated rapper

While I write another chapter that’s full of murder and laughter

I was last spotted (where?)

At a hostel out in Berlin

German women with turbans bringing me bourbons

I’m secured inside, bulletproof curtains

Wearing a shirt, «That's nice», it’s made out of your skin

I got a hungry dog at home that eats turd nuggets

If I feed him fingers he eats them like «Sure fuck it»

So watch where y’all be pointing those at, seeking see

My family

Plan-A is a stampede

No plan-b

That means

Probably heading back to jail

I don’t really sweat it though, Gode says he’s got the bail

If not I flee the country, but first plant some evidence, (Where?)

In the house of the ex-president's residence

Hit a republican up with the right, throwing a left on the liberal

Hit 'em like Pitbull

Making it rain at his show

Let’s Go