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Gassed

from oneAweek Vol. IV by Buck Bowen

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lyrics

Going into battle with nothing more than a fucking thought
Psycho logic got me manipulated to take a loss
But that ain’t happening, I’m coming back with massive shit
Circumnavigating the system there ain’t no trapping this

At 36 I’ve calmed down
But I’ll damn if I let the plan hit the sand so don’t fuck around
Ain’t no relaxing it’s stick and move attacking shit
You’re so full of shit and don’t even know the half of it

Blut blut blouw!
Bomb dropping out of nowhere turned your life upside fucking down
So what you gonna do? Let it get you off your cool?
Running to the pad feeling sad get a fucking clue

It’s warfare motherfucker
Ain’t nothing fair no one cares but your mother
And even that chic don’t really give a shit
She just got to say she do so you don’t cry like a little bitch

Stand clear, the future is here
Everybody busy planning motivated by fear
But I ain’t sitting up here waiting for the smoke to clear
I’m gonna forge a fucking path no relaxing this year

I got a life to live, mic to grip, what the fuck’s the price of it?
Print me out the tab, grab the cash I’m a buy this shit
That’s the cost of the success
You spend your day finding ways to fuck off and do less

What a tragedy, you little bitches ain’t no match for me
I’m running fucking laps round the track bitch you can’t compete
Elite pro level shit
While you sitting at home eating a bowl full of dicks

God damn, you think you can compare?
I think you need to realize your fucking never coming near
Cause I’ve been putting in the work while you’ve been looking like a derp
Your shit is suck, give it up, I’ve had enough that’s my fucking word

credits

from oneAweek Vol. IV, track released April 20, 2020

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Buck Bowen Long Beach, California

"Trying to bridge the growing gap between 'would-be' and 'has-been.'"

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