Cabin Fever - Seth Sentry

Seth Sentry

Super Cool Tree House: Episode Eight

Hmm

Now do I think there’s anybody better?

Gee, I doubt it (Nope)

I do this every week and there ain’t nothing weak about it (Yeah)

She told me you should whisper something sweet before you hit it

You need to shave your bush 'cause I ain’t tryna beat around it—I don’t know

women

I check the mic like a prostate, no

I stay frosty like a cupcake, no

Takin' rappers out like a lunch date, oh, for fucks sake

Sorry these are kinda lazy, I was up late

Nutcase, woke up in another fuckin' drug haze

Blood stains all around the place, fuckin' Mondays

I tried to squeeze the body in the boot of my Hyundai

But I don’t got the trunk space

Fuck, I knew I should’a upgraded from the hatchback

Now I’m standin' at the bus stop lookin' unphased

Duct-taped the body to a tree and gave it sunshades

Tryna hide behind a newspaper but my face is on the front page (Yeah)

Oh, you goin' off the deep end: shark bait

I’m layin' on the beach fuckin' weeded: sunbaked

Trust me, bro, I do this every weekend: Sunday

Seize the moment, send your girl a DM: carpe

Yeah, you are not us (Yeah)

You’re starin' at your phone like, «Can I get a buzz?»

()

You think it’s all connections and you ain’t got the plugs ()

But you don’t get reception 'cause you ain’t got the bars

That’s all it was, yeah, before the mood’s gone

You need to pack it all up, you need to move on

You wonder why I never comment on your new song

And send you little pictures of a fire when it’s lukewarm

Timer on the clock runnin' lower on the truth bomb

Bro, don’t get your wires crossed tryna cut the blue one

Shit, I cut the lights, shoot the fusebox, a million ways to die,

make you choose one

Choose your own ending, give you Goosebumps

Yeah, it’s sorta like the warning right before you die

So fortify your borders, I am cold as ice

The train line that I grew up on was a haunted ride

I’m crawlin' out your walls like I’m a homicidal poltergeist

Hmm, I don’t walk the line, I snort it

Then I cut you when you rub me up the wrong way like a porcupine

Tossin' razorblades inside your waterslide

And throwin' rollerblades and Razor scooters in your quarter pipe,

I told you I am

On the grind, so don’t go fuckin' with my balance meter

Man, you’ll be the saddest Joker since Jared Leto

Can you see the difference in category?

All you rappers need to flee the rap arena, be on your toes like a ballerina

Damn, it’s either homesick or it’s cabin fever

Either way, this shit is so filthy, I wish I had a cleaner

Watchin' Tarantino and readin' a porno magazine

I’m spillin' seed like Michael J. Fox at the fuckin' parrot feeder

Yeah, how long you gonna let me do this for?

Just take it on the chin until you can’t eat solid food no more?

But even when you’re pickin' out your soupe du jour

I boot the door and slam you throught he floor like I’m a luchador, super cool