Mac Lethal Backward Lyrics

[spoken]
My name is David Macleary Sheldon. I was born and raised in Kansas City.

Say it right here, I don't want it to be over.

You got a beautiful face.

[1]
Sittin on the roof of the factory high
There's a blood orange moon and a strawberry sky
To come home soon is the wish and wonder
But I'm calmed by the boom of the distant thunder
Relax
There's no television static
Just the howls of never-ending traffic
This world is plastic and fake
And I was born a few generations late
Illustrate my face feel the s____y
I'm strange as hell, but I'm real as f___
So follow my smell, to the hollows and dales
And I'll show you the snakes as they swallow their tails
They're right there running the a__embly lines
Where the coal gets shoveled by the carton smokers
They're parasites burrowed into listener's minds
Nevermind, scratch that, let me start this over
Man, how far does this pigeon-hole travel
Find the answer in the indigo shadows
Though you can't, unless you know the chant
Of the 808 labor line soldier ant
I held my mom as she died in my hands
Had to cancel the tour, I hope you guys understand
That the life of a man's gonna crack in the eyes of his fans when he fails to supply the demands
Now if only I could catch my breath
I got spurs on my boots I can etch my steps
So I can find my way home when I stretch my depths
But I gotta get a disclaimer off my chest
When I talk about social ills or the alcohol fix or the potent pills
Understand that I wrote it with a soul to fill
I had to sketch myself a new home to build
I was baited and caught by decoys and free will
Wounded inside, I rejoiced in cheap thrills
My life was destroyed and rebuilt
Listen to the dangerous sweet noise and keep still
Introverted, border-line sick, disconcerted
Kinda slick when it's quickly worded
Every tick every twist every drips a__ertive
With a verse every pixel is picture perfect
When it burst!
That's how I stitch the fervor
With the scraps and the bits of the sensory murder
And they're the antithesis as I rip 'em with the type of terrificness
The benefits a rhyming certificate (?)
Kids are insolent
I'm spittin so the minute on the rhythm
And I'm gettin so inventive that's there's really no equivalent
I rip a show I'll pigeon-hole an ivalid
Until he gotta tip me tho to get a dose of lithium
So tell the other kids to smell the blood I spit
Just to let 'em know what the hell they're f___in with
I felt pain and I'll feel it again
Take 'em back to the end, start again
I got mental cravings for sinful tastings
and gentle phrasings with pencil shavings
I felt pain and I'll feel it again
Take 'em back to the end start again

Say it right here I don't want it to be over
Say it right here I don't want it to be over (repeat and overlap)
You got a, you got a, you got a beautiful face.