[{"id":36793672,"name":"$uicideboy$ – That Just Isn't Empirically Possible (Lyric Video)","trackName":"$uicideboy$ – That Just Isn't Empirically Possible (Lyric Video)","artistName":"$uicideboy$","albumName":"$uicideboy$ – That Just Isn't Empirically Possible (Lyric Video)","duration":124.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"It's lonely at the top\nAll of my enemies have been defeated (RIP)\nThe crown has been sitting on my head for too long\nIt's starting to give me these lesions (yeah, yeah)\nDon't follow the crowd, the crowd is misleading (no)\nStay solo, surrounded by all of my demons (ay)\nLicking my wounds as they deepen (ay)\nConstantly feeding them all of my secrets\n007, I got the golden gun, I got the golden gun\nI'm busting, open up the door (secrets)\nI'm at my breaking point, I cannot take this shit no more\nI'm ready to fucking explode\nOpen up, knock knock\nHere comes the Glock cocked\n9 milli, pop pop pop, oh no\nMaking a mess, my aim ain't the best\nI guess I should clean this all up and go home\nPercocet, Roxycodone\nWith some Xanax that I had crushed up in some dust (huh)\nElevated to another dimension so I got a limp in my strut (fuck)\nI do not care to be here or be there\nIn the meantime it seems that I'm stuck (huh)\nSwerving and crashing, that dying little bastard\nYung Christ, you address me as such (what)\nCrazy little demon, they wave when they see me\nFace tatted from ear to ear (yeah)\nNorthside boy with a Glock-sized toy\nIf I cock it, there's finna be tears here\nManic depressive, when life\nIs in session I hide in a room that's as dark as me\nDollar sign-B and it's still F-T-P\nFucking G-R-E-Y till I R-I-P","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: $uicideboy$ – That Just Isn't Empirically Possible (Lyric Video)\n artist: $uicideboy$\n album: $uicideboy$ – That Just Isn't Empirically Possible (Lyric Video)\n duration_ms: 124000\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n It's lonely at the top\n All of my enemies have been defeated (RIP)\n The crown has been sitting on my head for too long\n It's starting to give me these lesions (yeah, yeah)\n Don't follow the crowd, the crowd is misleading (no)\n Stay solo, surrounded by all of my demons (ay)\n Licking my wounds as they deepen (ay)\n Constantly feeding them all of my secrets\n 007, I got the golden gun, I got the golden gun\n I'm busting, open up the door (secrets)\n I'm at my breaking point, I cannot take this shit no more\n I'm ready to fucking explode\n Open up, knock knock\n Here comes the Glock cocked\n 9 milli, pop pop pop, oh no\n Making a mess, my aim ain't the best\n I guess I should clean this all up and go home\n Percocet, Roxycodone\n With some Xanax that I had crushed up in some dust (huh)\n Elevated to another dimension so I got a limp in my strut (fuck)\n I do not care to be here or be there\n In the meantime it seems that I'm stuck (huh)\n Swerving and crashing, that dying little bastard\n Yung Christ, you address me as such (what)\n Crazy little demon, they wave when they see me\n Face tatted from ear to ear (yeah)\n Northside boy with a Glock-sized toy\n If I cock it, there's finna be tears here\n Manic depressive, when life\n Is in session I hide in a room that's as dark as me\n Dollar sign-B and it's still F-T-P\n Fucking G-R-E-Y till I R-I-P\n"},{"id":31036653,"name":"That Just Isn't Empirically Possible","trackName":"That Just Isn't Empirically Possible","artistName":"$uicideboy$","albumName":"$uicideboy$","duration":124.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"It's lonely at the top\nAll of my enemies have been defeated (RIP)\nThe crown has been sitting on my head for too long\nIt's starting to give me these lesions (yeah, yeah)\nDon't follow the crowd, the crowd is misleading (no)\nStay solo, surrounded by all of my demons (ay)\nLicking my wounds as they deepen (ay)\nConstantly feeding them all of my secrets\n007, I got the golden gun, I got the golden gun\nI'm busting, open up the door (secrets)\nI'm at my breaking point, I cannot take this shit no more\nI'm ready to fucking explode\nOpen up, knock knock\nHere comes the Glock cocked\n9 milli, pop pop pop, oh no\nMaking a mess, my aim ain't the best\nI guess I should clean this all up and go home\n♪\nPercocet, Roxycodone, with some Xanax that I had crushed up in some dust (huh)\nElevated to another dimension so I got a limp in my strut (fuck)\nI do not care to be here or be there\nIn the meantime it seems that I'm stuck (huh)\nSwerving and crashing, that dying little bastard\nYung Christ, you address me as such (what)\nCrazy little demon, they wave when they see me\nFace tatted from ear to ear (yeah)\nNorthside boy with a Glock-sized toy\nIf I cock it, there's finna be tears here\nManic depressive, when life is in session I hide in a room that's as dark as me\nDollar sign-B and it's still F-T-P\nFucking G-R-E-Y till I R-I-P\n\n","syncedLyrics":"[00:31.01] It's lonely at the top\n[00:32.41] All of my enemies have been defeated (RIP)\n[00:34.69] The crown has been sitting on my head for too long\n[00:36.40] It's starting to give me these lesions (yeah, yeah)\n[00:38.25] Don't follow the crowd, the crowd is misleading (no)\n[00:40.16] Stay solo, surrounded by all of my demons (ay)\n[00:42.85] Licking my wounds as they deepen (ay)\n[00:44.15] Constantly feeding them all of my secrets\n[00:46.38] 007, I got the golden gun, I got the golden gun\n[00:49.02] I'm busting, open up the door (secrets)\n[00:50.62] I'm at my breaking point, I cannot take this shit no more\n[00:52.83] I'm ready to fucking explode\n[00:54.58] Open up, knock knock\n[00:55.53] Here comes the Glock cocked\n[00:56.60] 9 milli, pop pop pop, oh no\n[00:58.42] Making a mess, my aim ain't the best\n[01:00.23] I guess I should clean this all up and go home\n[01:03.41] ♪\n[01:17.18] Percocet, Roxycodone, with some Xanax that I had crushed up in some dust (huh)\n[01:21.27] Elevated to another dimension so I got a limp in my strut (fuck)\n[01:25.05] I do not care to be here or be there\n[01:26.59] In the meantime it seems that I'm stuck (huh)\n[01:28.83] Swerving and crashing, that dying little bastard\n[01:30.67] Yung Christ, you address me as such (what)\n[01:32.76] Crazy little demon, they wave when they see me\n[01:34.55] Face tatted from ear to ear (yeah)\n[01:36.53] Northside boy with a Glock-sized toy\n[01:38.35] If I cock it, there's finna be tears here\n[01:40.44] Manic depressive, when life is in session I hide in a room that's as dark as me\n[01:44.20] Dollar sign-B and it's still F-T-P\n[01:46.06] Fucking G-R-E-Y till I R-I-P\n[01:47.85] \n","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: That Just Isn't Empirically Possible\n artist: $uicideboy$\n album: $uicideboy$\n duration_ms: 124000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: It's lonely at the top\n start_ms: 31010\n end_ms: 32410\n- text: All of my enemies have been defeated (RIP)\n start_ms: 32410\n end_ms: 34690\n- text: The crown has been sitting on my head for too long\n start_ms: 34690\n end_ms: 36400\n- text: It's starting to give me these lesions (yeah, yeah)\n start_ms: 36400\n end_ms: 38250\n- text: Don't follow the crowd, the crowd is misleading (no)\n start_ms: 38250\n end_ms: 40160\n- text: Stay solo, surrounded by all of my demons (ay)\n start_ms: 40160\n end_ms: 42850\n- text: Licking my wounds as they deepen (ay)\n start_ms: 42850\n end_ms: 44150\n- text: Constantly feeding them all of my secrets\n start_ms: 44150\n end_ms: 46380\n- text: 007, I got the golden gun, I got the golden gun\n start_ms: 46380\n end_ms: 49020\n- text: I'm busting, open up the door (secrets)\n start_ms: 49020\n end_ms: 50620\n- text: I'm at my breaking point, I cannot take this shit no more\n start_ms: 50620\n end_ms: 52830\n- text: I'm ready to fucking explode\n start_ms: 52830\n end_ms: 54580\n- text: Open up, knock knock\n start_ms: 54580\n end_ms: 55530\n- text: Here comes the Glock cocked\n start_ms: 55530\n end_ms: 56600\n- text: 9 milli, pop pop pop, oh no\n start_ms: 56600\n end_ms: 58420\n- text: Making a mess, my aim ain't the best\n start_ms: 58420\n end_ms: 60230\n- text: I guess I should clean this all up and go home\n start_ms: 60230\n end_ms: 63410\n- text: ♪\n start_ms: 63410\n end_ms: 77180\n- text: Percocet, Roxycodone, with some Xanax that I had crushed up in some dust (huh)\n start_ms: 77180\n end_ms: 81270\n- text: Elevated to another dimension so I got a limp in my strut (fuck)\n start_ms: 81270\n end_ms: 85050\n- text: I do not care to be here or be there\n start_ms: 85050\n end_ms: 86590\n- text: In the meantime it seems that I'm stuck (huh)\n start_ms: 86590\n end_ms: 88830\n- text: Swerving and crashing, that dying little bastard\n start_ms: 88830\n end_ms: 90670\n- text: Yung Christ, you address me as such (what)\n start_ms: 90670\n end_ms: 92760\n- text: Crazy little demon, they wave when they see me\n start_ms: 92760\n end_ms: 94550\n- text: Face tatted from ear to ear (yeah)\n start_ms: 94550\n end_ms: 96530\n- text: Northside boy with a Glock-sized toy\n start_ms: 96530\n end_ms: 98350\n- text: If I cock it, there's finna be tears here\n start_ms: 98350\n end_ms: 100440\n- text: Manic depressive, when life is in session I hide in a room that's as dark as me\n start_ms: 100440\n end_ms: 104200\n- text: Dollar sign-B and it's still F-T-P\n start_ms: 104200\n end_ms: 106060\n- text: Fucking G-R-E-Y till I R-I-P\n start_ms: 106060\n end_ms: 107850\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 107850\nplain: |+\n It's lonely at the top\n All of my enemies have been defeated (RIP)\n The crown has been sitting on my head for too long\n It's starting to give me these lesions (yeah, yeah)\n Don't follow the crowd, the crowd is misleading (no)\n Stay solo, surrounded by all of my demons (ay)\n Licking my wounds as they deepen (ay)\n Constantly feeding them all of my secrets\n 007, I got the golden gun, I got the golden gun\n I'm busting, open up the door (secrets)\n I'm at my breaking point, I cannot take this shit no more\n I'm ready to fucking explode\n Open up, knock knock\n Here comes the Glock cocked\n 9 milli, pop pop pop, oh no\n Making a mess, my aim ain't the best\n I guess I should clean this all up and go home\n ♪\n Percocet, Roxycodone, with some Xanax that I had crushed up in some dust (huh)\n Elevated to another dimension so I got a limp in my strut (fuck)\n I do not care to be here or be there\n In the meantime it seems that I'm stuck (huh)\n Swerving and crashing, that dying little bastard\n Yung Christ, you address me as such (what)\n Crazy little demon, they wave when they see me\n Face tatted from ear to ear (yeah)\n Northside boy with a Glock-sized toy\n If I cock it, there's finna be tears here\n Manic depressive, when life is in session I hide in a room that's as dark as me\n Dollar sign-B and it's still F-T-P\n Fucking G-R-E-Y till I R-I-P\n\n"},{"id":11950097,"name":"$uicideboy$ – That Just Isn't Empirically Possible (Lyric Video)","trackName":"$uicideboy$ – That Just Isn't Empirically Possible (Lyric Video)","artistName":"$uicideboy$","albumName":"$uicideboy$","duration":124.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"It's lonely at the top\nAll of my enemies have been defeated (RIP)\nThe crown has been sitting on my head for too long\nIt's starting to give me these lesions (yeah, yeah)\nDon't follow the crowd, the crowd is misleading (no)\nStay solo, surrounded by all of my demons (ay)\nLicking my wounds as they deepen (ay)\nConstantly feeding them all of my secrets\n007, I got the golden gun, I got the golden gun\nI'm busting, open up the door (secrets)\nI'm at my breaking point, I cannot take this shit no more\nI'm ready to fucking explode\nOpen up, knock knock\nHere comes the Glock cocked\n9 milli, pop pop pop, oh no\nMaking a mess, my aim ain't the best\nI guess I should clean this all up and go home\nPercocet, Roxycodone\nWith some Xanax that I had crushed up in some dust (huh)\nElevated to another dimension so I got a limp in my strut (fuck)\nI do not care to be here or be there\nIn the meantime it seems that I'm stuck (huh)\nSwerving and crashing, that dying little bastard\nYung Christ, you address me as such (what)\nCrazy little demon, they wave when they see me\nFace tatted from ear to ear (yeah)\nNorthside boy with a Glock-sized toy\nIf I cock it, there's finna be tears here\nManic depressive, when life\nIs in session I hide in a room that's as dark as me\nDollar sign-B and it's still F-T-P\nFucking G-R-E-Y till I R-I-P","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.01] Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n[00:03.48] Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\n[00:05.85] Let ya brain soak\n[00:07.31] Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n[00:11.13] Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\n[00:13.11] Smoke scattered out, smoke scattered out\n[00:15.17] Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n[00:19.09] Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\n[00:21.49] Let ya brain soak\n[00:22.79] Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n[00:26.72] Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\n[00:28.73] Smoke scattered out, smoke scattered out\n[00:30.38] It's lonely at the top\n[00:31.95] All of my enemies have been defeated (RIP)\n[00:34.24] The crown has been sitting on my head for too long\n[00:36.20] It's starting to give me these lesions (yeah, yeah)\n[00:38.19] Don't follow the crowd, the crowd is misleading (no)\n[00:40.12] Stay solo, surrounded by all of my demons (ay)\n[00:42.68] Licking my wounds as they deepen (ay)\n[00:44.05] Constantly feeding them all of my secrets\n[00:46.12] 007, I got the golden gun, I got the golden gun\n[00:48.81] I'm busting, open up the door (secrets)\n[00:50.32] I'm at my breaking point, I cannot take this shit no more\n[00:52.69] I'm ready to fucking explode\n[00:54.27] Open up, knock knock\n[00:55.25] Here comes the Glock cocked\n[00:56.14] 9 milli, pop pop pop, oh no\n[00:58.11] Making a mess, my aim ain't the best\n[00:59.95] I guess I should clean this all up and go home\n[01:16.80] Percocet, Roxycodone, with some Xanax\n[01:18.88] That I had crushed up in some dust (huh)\n[01:20.86] Elevated to another dimension so I got a limp in my strut (fuck)\n[01:24.78] I do not care to be here or be there\n[01:26.34] In the meantime it seems that I'm stuck (huh)\n[01:28.58] Swerving and crashing, that dying little bastard\n[01:30.32] Yung Christ, you address me as such (what)\n[01:32.45] Crazy little demon, they wave when they see me\n[01:34.26] Face tatted from ear to ear (yeah)\n[01:36.31] Northside boy with a Glock-sized toy\n[01:38.05] If I cock it, there's finna be tears here\n[01:40.25] Manic depressive, when life is in session\n[01:42.03] I hide in a room that's as dark as me\n[01:44.08] Dollar sign-B and it's still F-T-P\n[01:45.74] Fucking G-R-E-Y till I R-I-P\n[01:51.89] Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\n[01:54.22] Let ya brain soak\n[01:59.54] Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\n[02:01.58] Smoke scattered out, smoke scattered out\n[02:02.95] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: $uicideboy$ – That Just Isn't Empirically Possible (Lyric Video)\n artist: $uicideboy$\n album: $uicideboy$\n duration_ms: 124000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n start_ms: 10\n end_ms: 3480\n- text: Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\n start_ms: 3480\n end_ms: 5850\n- text: Let ya brain soak\n start_ms: 5850\n end_ms: 7310\n- text: Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n start_ms: 7310\n end_ms: 11130\n- text: Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\n start_ms: 11130\n end_ms: 13110\n- text: Smoke scattered out, smoke scattered out\n start_ms: 13110\n end_ms: 15170\n- text: Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n start_ms: 15170\n end_ms: 19090\n- text: Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\n start_ms: 19090\n end_ms: 21490\n- text: Let ya brain soak\n start_ms: 21490\n end_ms: 22790\n- text: Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n start_ms: 22790\n end_ms: 26720\n- text: Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\n start_ms: 26720\n end_ms: 28730\n- text: Smoke scattered out, smoke scattered out\n start_ms: 28730\n end_ms: 30380\n- text: It's lonely at the top\n start_ms: 30380\n end_ms: 31950\n- text: All of my enemies have been defeated (RIP)\n start_ms: 31950\n end_ms: 34240\n- text: The crown has been sitting on my head for too long\n start_ms: 34240\n end_ms: 36200\n- text: It's starting to give me these lesions (yeah, yeah)\n start_ms: 36200\n end_ms: 38190\n- text: Don't follow the crowd, the crowd is misleading (no)\n start_ms: 38190\n end_ms: 40120\n- text: Stay solo, surrounded by all of my demons (ay)\n start_ms: 40120\n end_ms: 42680\n- text: Licking my wounds as they deepen (ay)\n start_ms: 42680\n end_ms: 44050\n- text: Constantly feeding them all of my secrets\n start_ms: 44050\n end_ms: 46120\n- text: 007, I got the golden gun, I got the golden gun\n start_ms: 46120\n end_ms: 48810\n- text: I'm busting, open up the door (secrets)\n start_ms: 48810\n end_ms: 50320\n- text: I'm at my breaking point, I cannot take this shit no more\n start_ms: 50320\n end_ms: 52690\n- text: I'm ready to fucking explode\n start_ms: 52690\n end_ms: 54270\n- text: Open up, knock knock\n start_ms: 54270\n end_ms: 55250\n- text: Here comes the Glock cocked\n start_ms: 55250\n end_ms: 56140\n- text: 9 milli, pop pop pop, oh no\n start_ms: 56140\n end_ms: 58110\n- text: Making a mess, my aim ain't the best\n start_ms: 58110\n end_ms: 59950\n- text: I guess I should clean this all up and go home\n start_ms: 59950\n end_ms: 76800\n- text: Percocet, Roxycodone, with some Xanax\n start_ms: 76800\n end_ms: 78880\n- text: That I had crushed up in some dust (huh)\n start_ms: 78880\n end_ms: 80860\n- text: Elevated to another dimension so I got a limp in my strut (fuck)\n start_ms: 80860\n end_ms: 84780\n- text: I do not care to be here or be there\n start_ms: 84780\n end_ms: 86340\n- text: In the meantime it seems that I'm stuck (huh)\n start_ms: 86340\n end_ms: 88580\n- text: Swerving and crashing, that dying little bastard\n start_ms: 88580\n end_ms: 90320\n- text: Yung Christ, you address me as such (what)\n start_ms: 90320\n end_ms: 92450\n- text: Crazy little demon, they wave when they see me\n start_ms: 92450\n end_ms: 94260\n- text: Face tatted from ear to ear (yeah)\n start_ms: 94260\n end_ms: 96310\n- text: Northside boy with a Glock-sized toy\n start_ms: 96310\n end_ms: 98050\n- text: If I cock it, there's finna be tears here\n start_ms: 98050\n end_ms: 100250\n- text: Manic depressive, when life is in session\n start_ms: 100250\n end_ms: 102030\n- text: I hide in a room that's as dark as me\n start_ms: 102030\n end_ms: 104080\n- text: Dollar sign-B and it's still F-T-P\n start_ms: 104080\n end_ms: 105740\n- text: Fucking G-R-E-Y till I R-I-P\n start_ms: 105740\n end_ms: 111890\n- text: Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\n start_ms: 111890\n end_ms: 114220\n- text: Let ya brain soak\n start_ms: 114220\n end_ms: 119540\n- text: Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\n start_ms: 119540\n end_ms: 121580\n- text: Smoke scattered out, smoke scattered out\n start_ms: 121580\n end_ms: 122950\nplain: |-\n It's lonely at the top\n All of my enemies have been defeated (RIP)\n The crown has been sitting on my head for too long\n It's starting to give me these lesions (yeah, yeah)\n Don't follow the crowd, the crowd is misleading (no)\n Stay solo, surrounded by all of my demons (ay)\n Licking my wounds as they deepen (ay)\n Constantly feeding them all of my secrets\n 007, I got the golden gun, I got the golden gun\n I'm busting, open up the door (secrets)\n I'm at my breaking point, I cannot take this shit no more\n I'm ready to fucking explode\n Open up, knock knock\n Here comes the Glock cocked\n 9 milli, pop pop pop, oh no\n Making a mess, my aim ain't the best\n I guess I should clean this all up and go home\n Percocet, Roxycodone\n With some Xanax that I had crushed up in some dust (huh)\n Elevated to another dimension so I got a limp in my strut (fuck)\n I do not care to be here or be there\n In the meantime it seems that I'm stuck (huh)\n Swerving and crashing, that dying little bastard\n Yung Christ, you address me as such (what)\n Crazy little demon, they wave when they see me\n Face tatted from ear to ear (yeah)\n Northside boy with a Glock-sized toy\n If I cock it, there's finna be tears here\n Manic depressive, when life\n Is in session I hide in a room that's as dark as me\n Dollar sign-B and it's still F-T-P\n Fucking G-R-E-Y till I R-I-P\n"},{"id":11340680,"name":"That Just Isn’t Empirically Possible","trackName":"That Just Isn’t Empirically Possible","artistName":"$uicideboy$","albumName":"$uicideboy$ Videos","duration":124.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"It's lonely at the top\nAll of my enemies have been defeated (RIP)\nThe crown has been sitting on my head for too long\nIt's starting to give me these lesions (yeah, yeah)\nDon't follow the crowd, the crowd is misleading (no)\nStay solo, surrounded by all of my demons (ay)\nLicking my wounds as they deepen (ay)\nConstantly feeding them all of my secrets\n007, I got the golden gun, I got the golden gun\nI'm busting, open up the door (secrets)\nI'm at my breaking point, I cannot take this shit no more\nI'm ready to fucking explode\nOpen up, knock knock\nHere comes the Glock cocked\n9 milli, pop pop pop, oh no\nMaking a mess, my aim ain't the best\nI guess I should clean this all up and go home\nPercocet, Roxycodone\nWith some Xanax that I had crushed up in some dust (huh)\nElevated to another dimension so I got a limp in my strut (fuck)\nI do not care to be here or be there\nIn the meantime it seems that I'm stuck (huh)\nSwerving and crashing, that dying little bastard\nYung Christ, you address me as such (what)\nCrazy little demon, they wave when they see me\nFace tatted from ear to ear (yeah)\nNorthside boy with a Glock-sized toy\nIf I cock it, there's finna be tears here\nManic depressive, when life\nIs in session I hide in a room that's as dark as me\nDollar sign-B and it's still F-T-P\nFucking G-R-E-Y till I R-I-P","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.01] Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n[00:03.48] Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\n[00:05.85] Let ya brain soak\n[00:07.31] Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n[00:11.13] Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\n[00:13.11] Smoke scattered out, smoke scattered out\n[00:15.17] Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n[00:19.09] Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\n[00:21.49] Let ya brain soak\n[00:22.79] Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n[00:26.72] Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\n[00:28.73] Smoke scattered out, smoke scattered out\n[00:30.38] It's lonely at the top\n[00:31.95] All of my enemies have been defeated (RIP)\n[00:34.24] The crown has been sitting on my head for too long\n[00:36.20] It's starting to give me these lesions (yeah, yeah)\n[00:38.19] Don't follow the crowd, the crowd is misleading (no)\n[00:40.12] Stay solo, surrounded by all of my demons (ay)\n[00:42.68] Licking my wounds as they deepen (ay)\n[00:44.05] Constantly feeding them all of my secrets\n[00:46.12] 007, I got the golden gun, I got the golden gun\n[00:48.81] I'm busting, open up the door (secrets)\n[00:50.32] I'm at my breaking point, I cannot take this shit no more\n[00:52.69] I'm ready to fucking explode\n[00:54.27] Open up, knock knock\n[00:55.25] Here comes the Glock cocked\n[00:56.14] 9 milli, pop pop pop, oh no\n[00:58.11] Making a mess, my aim ain't the best\n[00:59.95] I guess I should clean this all up and go home\n[01:16.80] Percocet, Roxycodone, with some Xanax\n[01:18.88] That I had crushed up in some dust (huh)\n[01:20.86] Elevated to another dimension so I got a limp in my strut (fuck)\n[01:24.78] I do not care to be here or be there\n[01:26.34] In the meantime it seems that I'm stuck (huh)\n[01:28.58] Swerving and crashing, that dying little bastard\n[01:30.32] Yung Christ, you address me as such (what)\n[01:32.45] Crazy little demon, they wave when they see me\n[01:34.26] Face tatted from ear to ear (yeah)\n[01:36.31] Northside boy with a Glock-sized toy\n[01:38.05] If I cock it, there's finna be tears here\n[01:40.25] Manic depressive, when life is in session\n[01:42.03] I hide in a room that's as dark as me\n[01:44.08] Dollar sign-B and it's still F-T-P\n[01:45.74] Fucking G-R-E-Y till I R-I-P\n[01:51.89] Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\n[01:54.22] Let ya brain soak\n[01:59.54] Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\n[02:01.58] Smoke scattered out, smoke scattered out\n[02:02.95] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: That Just Isn’t Empirically Possible\n artist: $uicideboy$\n album: $uicideboy$ Videos\n duration_ms: 124000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n start_ms: 10\n end_ms: 3480\n- text: Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\n start_ms: 3480\n end_ms: 5850\n- text: Let ya brain soak\n start_ms: 5850\n end_ms: 7310\n- text: Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n start_ms: 7310\n end_ms: 11130\n- text: Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\n start_ms: 11130\n end_ms: 13110\n- text: Smoke scattered out, smoke scattered out\n start_ms: 13110\n end_ms: 15170\n- text: Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n start_ms: 15170\n end_ms: 19090\n- text: Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\n start_ms: 19090\n end_ms: 21490\n- text: Let ya brain soak\n start_ms: 21490\n end_ms: 22790\n- text: Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n start_ms: 22790\n end_ms: 26720\n- text: Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\n start_ms: 26720\n end_ms: 28730\n- text: Smoke scattered out, smoke scattered out\n start_ms: 28730\n end_ms: 30380\n- text: It's lonely at the top\n start_ms: 30380\n end_ms: 31950\n- text: All of my enemies have been defeated (RIP)\n start_ms: 31950\n end_ms: 34240\n- text: The crown has been sitting on my head for too long\n start_ms: 34240\n end_ms: 36200\n- text: It's starting to give me these lesions (yeah, yeah)\n start_ms: 36200\n end_ms: 38190\n- text: Don't follow the crowd, the crowd is misleading (no)\n start_ms: 38190\n end_ms: 40120\n- text: Stay solo, surrounded by all of my demons (ay)\n start_ms: 40120\n end_ms: 42680\n- text: Licking my wounds as they deepen (ay)\n start_ms: 42680\n end_ms: 44050\n- text: Constantly feeding them all of my secrets\n start_ms: 44050\n end_ms: 46120\n- text: 007, I got the golden gun, I got the golden gun\n start_ms: 46120\n end_ms: 48810\n- text: I'm busting, open up the door (secrets)\n start_ms: 48810\n end_ms: 50320\n- text: I'm at my breaking point, I cannot take this shit no more\n start_ms: 50320\n end_ms: 52690\n- text: I'm ready to fucking explode\n start_ms: 52690\n end_ms: 54270\n- text: Open up, knock knock\n start_ms: 54270\n end_ms: 55250\n- text: Here comes the Glock cocked\n start_ms: 55250\n end_ms: 56140\n- text: 9 milli, pop pop pop, oh no\n start_ms: 56140\n end_ms: 58110\n- text: Making a mess, my aim ain't the best\n start_ms: 58110\n end_ms: 59950\n- text: I guess I should clean this all up and go home\n start_ms: 59950\n end_ms: 76800\n- text: Percocet, Roxycodone, with some Xanax\n start_ms: 76800\n end_ms: 78880\n- text: That I had crushed up in some dust (huh)\n start_ms: 78880\n end_ms: 80860\n- text: Elevated to another dimension so I got a limp in my strut (fuck)\n start_ms: 80860\n end_ms: 84780\n- text: I do not care to be here or be there\n start_ms: 84780\n end_ms: 86340\n- text: In the meantime it seems that I'm stuck (huh)\n start_ms: 86340\n end_ms: 88580\n- text: Swerving and crashing, that dying little bastard\n start_ms: 88580\n end_ms: 90320\n- text: Yung Christ, you address me as such (what)\n start_ms: 90320\n end_ms: 92450\n- text: Crazy little demon, they wave when they see me\n start_ms: 92450\n end_ms: 94260\n- text: Face tatted from ear to ear (yeah)\n start_ms: 94260\n end_ms: 96310\n- text: Northside boy with a Glock-sized toy\n start_ms: 96310\n end_ms: 98050\n- text: If I cock it, there's finna be tears here\n start_ms: 98050\n end_ms: 100250\n- text: Manic depressive, when life is in session\n start_ms: 100250\n end_ms: 102030\n- text: I hide in a room that's as dark as me\n start_ms: 102030\n end_ms: 104080\n- text: Dollar sign-B and it's still F-T-P\n start_ms: 104080\n end_ms: 105740\n- text: Fucking G-R-E-Y till I R-I-P\n start_ms: 105740\n end_ms: 111890\n- text: Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\n start_ms: 111890\n end_ms: 114220\n- text: Let ya brain soak\n start_ms: 114220\n end_ms: 119540\n- text: Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\n start_ms: 119540\n end_ms: 121580\n- text: Smoke scattered out, smoke scattered out\n start_ms: 121580\n end_ms: 122950\nplain: |-\n It's lonely at the top\n All of my enemies have been defeated (RIP)\n The crown has been sitting on my head for too long\n It's starting to give me these lesions (yeah, yeah)\n Don't follow the crowd, the crowd is misleading (no)\n Stay solo, surrounded by all of my demons (ay)\n Licking my wounds as they deepen (ay)\n Constantly feeding them all of my secrets\n 007, I got the golden gun, I got the golden gun\n I'm busting, open up the door (secrets)\n I'm at my breaking point, I cannot take this shit no more\n I'm ready to fucking explode\n Open up, knock knock\n Here comes the Glock cocked\n 9 milli, pop pop pop, oh no\n Making a mess, my aim ain't the best\n I guess I should clean this all up and go home\n Percocet, Roxycodone\n With some Xanax that I had crushed up in some dust (huh)\n Elevated to another dimension so I got a limp in my strut (fuck)\n I do not care to be here or be there\n In the meantime it seems that I'm stuck (huh)\n Swerving and crashing, that dying little bastard\n Yung Christ, you address me as such (what)\n Crazy little demon, they wave when they see me\n Face tatted from ear to ear (yeah)\n Northside boy with a Glock-sized toy\n If I cock it, there's finna be tears here\n Manic depressive, when life\n Is in session I hide in a room that's as dark as me\n Dollar sign-B and it's still F-T-P\n Fucking G-R-E-Y till I R-I-P\n"},{"id":12376652,"name":"That Just Isn’t Empirically Possible","trackName":"That Just Isn’t Empirically Possible","artistName":"$uicideboy$","albumName":"$uicideboy$ Songs","duration":124.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"It's lonely at the top\nAll of my enemies have been defeated (RIP)\nThe crown has been sitting on my head for too long\nIt's starting to give me these lesions (yeah, yeah)\nDon't follow the crowd, the crowd is misleading (no)\nStay solo, surrounded by all of my demons (ay)\nLicking my wounds as they deepen (ay)\nConstantly feeding them all of my secrets\n007, I got the golden gun, I got the golden gun\nI'm busting, open up the door (secrets)\nI'm at my breaking point, I cannot take this shit no more\nI'm ready to fucking explode\nOpen up, knock knock\nHere comes the Glock cocked\n9 milli, pop pop pop, oh no\nMaking a mess, my aim ain't the best\nI guess I should clean this all up and go home\nPercocet, Roxycodone\nWith some Xanax that I had crushed up in some dust (huh)\nElevated to another dimension so I got a limp in my strut (fuck)\nI do not care to be here or be there\nIn the meantime it seems that I'm stuck (huh)\nSwerving and crashing, that dying little bastard\nYung Christ, you address me as such (what)\nCrazy little demon, they wave when they see me\nFace tatted from ear to ear (yeah)\nNorthside boy with a Glock-sized toy\nIf I cock it, there's finna be tears here\nManic depressive, when life\nIs in session I hide in a room that's as dark as me\nDollar sign-B and it's still F-T-P\nFucking G-R-E-Y till I R-I-P","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.01] Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n[00:03.48] Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\n[00:05.85] Let ya brain soak\n[00:07.31] Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n[00:11.13] Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\n[00:13.11] Smoke scattered out, smoke scattered out\n[00:15.17] Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n[00:19.09] Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\n[00:21.49] Let ya brain soak\n[00:22.79] Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n[00:26.72] Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\n[00:28.73] Smoke scattered out, smoke scattered out\n[00:30.38] It's lonely at the top\n[00:31.95] All of my enemies have been defeated (RIP)\n[00:34.24] The crown has been sitting on my head for too long\n[00:36.20] It's starting to give me these lesions (yeah, yeah)\n[00:38.19] Don't follow the crowd, the crowd is misleading (no)\n[00:40.12] Stay solo, surrounded by all of my demons (ay)\n[00:42.68] Licking my wounds as they deepen (ay)\n[00:44.05] Constantly feeding them all of my secrets\n[00:46.12] 007, I got the golden gun, I got the golden gun\n[00:48.81] I'm busting, open up the door (secrets)\n[00:50.32] I'm at my breaking point, I cannot take this shit no more\n[00:52.69] I'm ready to fucking explode\n[00:54.27] Open up, knock knock\n[00:55.25] Here comes the Glock cocked\n[00:56.14] 9 milli, pop pop pop, oh no\n[00:58.11] Making a mess, my aim ain't the best\n[00:59.95] I guess I should clean this all up and go home\n[01:16.80] Percocet, Roxycodone, with some Xanax\n[01:18.88] That I had crushed up in some dust (huh)\n[01:20.86] Elevated to another dimension so I got a limp in my strut (fuck)\n[01:24.78] I do not care to be here or be there\n[01:26.34] In the meantime it seems that I'm stuck (huh)\n[01:28.58] Swerving and crashing, that dying little bastard\n[01:30.32] Yung Christ, you address me as such (what)\n[01:32.45] Crazy little demon, they wave when they see me\n[01:34.26] Face tatted from ear to ear (yeah)\n[01:36.31] Northside boy with a Glock-sized toy\n[01:38.05] If I cock it, there's finna be tears here\n[01:40.25] Manic depressive, when life is in session\n[01:42.03] I hide in a room that's as dark as me\n[01:44.08] Dollar sign-B and it's still F-T-P\n[01:45.74] Fucking G-R-E-Y till I R-I-P\n[01:51.89] Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\n[01:54.22] Let ya brain soak\n[01:59.54] Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\n[02:01.58] Smoke scattered out, smoke scattered out\n[02:02.95] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: That Just Isn’t Empirically Possible\n artist: $uicideboy$\n album: $uicideboy$ Songs\n duration_ms: 124000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n start_ms: 10\n end_ms: 3480\n- text: Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\n start_ms: 3480\n end_ms: 5850\n- text: Let ya brain soak\n start_ms: 5850\n end_ms: 7310\n- text: Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n start_ms: 7310\n end_ms: 11130\n- text: Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\n start_ms: 11130\n end_ms: 13110\n- text: Smoke scattered out, smoke scattered out\n start_ms: 13110\n end_ms: 15170\n- text: Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n start_ms: 15170\n end_ms: 19090\n- text: Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\n start_ms: 19090\n end_ms: 21490\n- text: Let ya brain soak\n start_ms: 21490\n end_ms: 22790\n- text: Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n start_ms: 22790\n end_ms: 26720\n- text: Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\n start_ms: 26720\n end_ms: 28730\n- text: Smoke scattered out, smoke scattered out\n start_ms: 28730\n end_ms: 30380\n- text: It's lonely at the top\n start_ms: 30380\n end_ms: 31950\n- text: All of my enemies have been defeated (RIP)\n start_ms: 31950\n end_ms: 34240\n- text: The crown has been sitting on my head for too long\n start_ms: 34240\n end_ms: 36200\n- text: It's starting to give me these lesions (yeah, yeah)\n start_ms: 36200\n end_ms: 38190\n- text: Don't follow the crowd, the crowd is misleading (no)\n start_ms: 38190\n end_ms: 40120\n- text: Stay solo, surrounded by all of my demons (ay)\n start_ms: 40120\n end_ms: 42680\n- text: Licking my wounds as they deepen (ay)\n start_ms: 42680\n end_ms: 44050\n- text: Constantly feeding them all of my secrets\n start_ms: 44050\n end_ms: 46120\n- text: 007, I got the golden gun, I got the golden gun\n start_ms: 46120\n end_ms: 48810\n- text: I'm busting, open up the door (secrets)\n start_ms: 48810\n end_ms: 50320\n- text: I'm at my breaking point, I cannot take this shit no more\n start_ms: 50320\n end_ms: 52690\n- text: I'm ready to fucking explode\n start_ms: 52690\n end_ms: 54270\n- text: Open up, knock knock\n start_ms: 54270\n end_ms: 55250\n- text: Here comes the Glock cocked\n start_ms: 55250\n end_ms: 56140\n- text: 9 milli, pop pop pop, oh no\n start_ms: 56140\n end_ms: 58110\n- text: Making a mess, my aim ain't the best\n start_ms: 58110\n end_ms: 59950\n- text: I guess I should clean this all up and go home\n start_ms: 59950\n end_ms: 76800\n- text: Percocet, Roxycodone, with some Xanax\n start_ms: 76800\n end_ms: 78880\n- text: That I had crushed up in some dust (huh)\n start_ms: 78880\n end_ms: 80860\n- text: Elevated to another dimension so I got a limp in my strut (fuck)\n start_ms: 80860\n end_ms: 84780\n- text: I do not care to be here or be there\n start_ms: 84780\n end_ms: 86340\n- text: In the meantime it seems that I'm stuck (huh)\n start_ms: 86340\n end_ms: 88580\n- text: Swerving and crashing, that dying little bastard\n start_ms: 88580\n end_ms: 90320\n- text: Yung Christ, you address me as such (what)\n start_ms: 90320\n end_ms: 92450\n- text: Crazy little demon, they wave when they see me\n start_ms: 92450\n end_ms: 94260\n- text: Face tatted from ear to ear (yeah)\n start_ms: 94260\n end_ms: 96310\n- text: Northside boy with a Glock-sized toy\n start_ms: 96310\n end_ms: 98050\n- text: If I cock it, there's finna be tears here\n start_ms: 98050\n end_ms: 100250\n- text: Manic depressive, when life is in session\n start_ms: 100250\n end_ms: 102030\n- text: I hide in a room that's as dark as me\n start_ms: 102030\n end_ms: 104080\n- text: Dollar sign-B and it's still F-T-P\n start_ms: 104080\n end_ms: 105740\n- text: Fucking G-R-E-Y till I R-I-P\n start_ms: 105740\n end_ms: 111890\n- text: Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\n start_ms: 111890\n end_ms: 114220\n- text: Let ya brain soak\n start_ms: 114220\n end_ms: 119540\n- text: Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\n start_ms: 119540\n end_ms: 121580\n- text: Smoke scattered out, smoke scattered out\n start_ms: 121580\n end_ms: 122950\nplain: |-\n It's lonely at the top\n All of my enemies have been defeated (RIP)\n The crown has been sitting on my head for too long\n It's starting to give me these lesions (yeah, yeah)\n Don't follow the crowd, the crowd is misleading (no)\n Stay solo, surrounded by all of my demons (ay)\n Licking my wounds as they deepen (ay)\n Constantly feeding them all of my secrets\n 007, I got the golden gun, I got the golden gun\n I'm busting, open up the door (secrets)\n I'm at my breaking point, I cannot take this shit no more\n I'm ready to fucking explode\n Open up, knock knock\n Here comes the Glock cocked\n 9 milli, pop pop pop, oh no\n Making a mess, my aim ain't the best\n I guess I should clean this all up and go home\n Percocet, Roxycodone\n With some Xanax that I had crushed up in some dust (huh)\n Elevated to another dimension so I got a limp in my strut (fuck)\n I do not care to be here or be there\n In the meantime it seems that I'm stuck (huh)\n Swerving and crashing, that dying little bastard\n Yung Christ, you address me as such (what)\n Crazy little demon, they wave when they see me\n Face tatted from ear to ear (yeah)\n Northside boy with a Glock-sized toy\n If I cock it, there's finna be tears here\n Manic depressive, when life\n Is in session I hide in a room that's as dark as me\n Dollar sign-B and it's still F-T-P\n Fucking G-R-E-Y till I R-I-P\n"},{"id":10856080,"name":"$uicideboy$ – That Just Isn't Empirically Possible (Lyric Video)","trackName":"$uicideboy$ – That Just Isn't Empirically Possible (Lyric Video)","artistName":"$uicideboy$","albumName":"$uicideboy$ Videos","duration":124.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"It's lonely at the top\nAll of my enemies have been defeated (RIP)\nThe crown has been sitting on my head for too long\nIt's starting to give me these lesions (yeah, yeah)\nDon't follow the crowd, the crowd is misleading (no)\nStay solo, surrounded by all of my demons (ay)\nLicking my wounds as they deepen (ay)\nConstantly feeding them all of my secrets\n007, I got the golden gun, I got the golden gun\nI'm busting, open up the door (secrets)\nI'm at my breaking point, I cannot take this shit no more\nI'm ready to fucking explode\nOpen up, knock knock\nHere comes the Glock cocked\n9 milli, pop pop pop, oh no\nMaking a mess, my aim ain't the best\nI guess I should clean this all up and go home\nPercocet, Roxycodone\nWith some Xanax that I had crushed up in some dust (huh)\nElevated to another dimension so I got a limp in my strut (fuck)\nI do not care to be here or be there\nIn the meantime it seems that I'm stuck (huh)\nSwerving and crashing, that dying little bastard\nYung Christ, you address me as such (what)\nCrazy little demon, they wave when they see me\nFace tatted from ear to ear (yeah)\nNorthside boy with a Glock-sized toy\nIf I cock it, there's finna be tears here\nManic depressive, when life\nIs in session I hide in a room that's as dark as me\nDollar sign-B and it's still F-T-P\nFucking G-R-E-Y till I R-I-P","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.01] Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n[00:03.48] Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\n[00:05.85] Let ya brain soak\n[00:07.31] Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n[00:11.13] Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\n[00:13.11] Smoke scattered out, smoke scattered out\n[00:15.17] Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n[00:19.09] Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\n[00:21.49] Let ya brain soak\n[00:22.79] Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n[00:26.72] Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\n[00:28.73] Smoke scattered out, smoke scattered out\n[00:30.38] It's lonely at the top\n[00:31.95] All of my enemies have been defeated (RIP)\n[00:34.24] The crown has been sitting on my head for too long\n[00:36.20] It's starting to give me these lesions (yeah, yeah)\n[00:38.19] Don't follow the crowd, the crowd is misleading (no)\n[00:40.12] Stay solo, surrounded by all of my demons (ay)\n[00:42.68] Licking my wounds as they deepen (ay)\n[00:44.05] Constantly feeding them all of my secrets\n[00:46.12] 007, I got the golden gun, I got the golden gun\n[00:48.81] I'm busting, open up the door (secrets)\n[00:50.32] I'm at my breaking point, I cannot take this shit no more\n[00:52.69] I'm ready to fucking explode\n[00:54.27] Open up, knock knock\n[00:55.25] Here comes the Glock cocked\n[00:56.14] 9 milli, pop pop pop, oh no\n[00:58.11] Making a mess, my aim ain't the best\n[00:59.95] I guess I should clean this all up and go home\n[01:16.80] Percocet, Roxycodone, with some Xanax\n[01:18.88] That I had crushed up in some dust (huh)\n[01:20.86] Elevated to another dimension so I got a limp in my strut (fuck)\n[01:24.78] I do not care to be here or be there\n[01:26.34] In the meantime it seems that I'm stuck (huh)\n[01:28.58] Swerving and crashing, that dying little bastard\n[01:30.32] Yung Christ, you address me as such (what)\n[01:32.45] Crazy little demon, they wave when they see me\n[01:34.26] Face tatted from ear to ear (yeah)\n[01:36.31] Northside boy with a Glock-sized toy\n[01:38.05] If I cock it, there's finna be tears here\n[01:40.25] Manic depressive, when life is in session\n[01:42.03] I hide in a room that's as dark as me\n[01:44.08] Dollar sign-B and it's still F-T-P\n[01:45.74] Fucking G-R-E-Y till I R-I-P\n[01:51.89] Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\n[01:54.22] Let ya brain soak\n[01:59.54] Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\n[02:01.58] Smoke scattered out, smoke scattered out\n[02:02.95] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: $uicideboy$ – That Just Isn't Empirically Possible (Lyric Video)\n artist: $uicideboy$\n album: $uicideboy$ Videos\n duration_ms: 124000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n start_ms: 10\n end_ms: 3480\n- text: Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\n start_ms: 3480\n end_ms: 5850\n- text: Let ya brain soak\n start_ms: 5850\n end_ms: 7310\n- text: Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n start_ms: 7310\n end_ms: 11130\n- text: Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\n start_ms: 11130\n end_ms: 13110\n- text: Smoke scattered out, smoke scattered out\n start_ms: 13110\n end_ms: 15170\n- text: Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n start_ms: 15170\n end_ms: 19090\n- text: Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\n start_ms: 19090\n end_ms: 21490\n- text: Let ya brain soak\n start_ms: 21490\n end_ms: 22790\n- text: Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n start_ms: 22790\n end_ms: 26720\n- text: Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\n start_ms: 26720\n end_ms: 28730\n- text: Smoke scattered out, smoke scattered out\n start_ms: 28730\n end_ms: 30380\n- text: It's lonely at the top\n start_ms: 30380\n end_ms: 31950\n- text: All of my enemies have been defeated (RIP)\n start_ms: 31950\n end_ms: 34240\n- text: The crown has been sitting on my head for too long\n start_ms: 34240\n end_ms: 36200\n- text: It's starting to give me these lesions (yeah, yeah)\n start_ms: 36200\n end_ms: 38190\n- text: Don't follow the crowd, the crowd is misleading (no)\n start_ms: 38190\n end_ms: 40120\n- text: Stay solo, surrounded by all of my demons (ay)\n start_ms: 40120\n end_ms: 42680\n- text: Licking my wounds as they deepen (ay)\n start_ms: 42680\n end_ms: 44050\n- text: Constantly feeding them all of my secrets\n start_ms: 44050\n end_ms: 46120\n- text: 007, I got the golden gun, I got the golden gun\n start_ms: 46120\n end_ms: 48810\n- text: I'm busting, open up the door (secrets)\n start_ms: 48810\n end_ms: 50320\n- text: I'm at my breaking point, I cannot take this shit no more\n start_ms: 50320\n end_ms: 52690\n- text: I'm ready to fucking explode\n start_ms: 52690\n end_ms: 54270\n- text: Open up, knock knock\n start_ms: 54270\n end_ms: 55250\n- text: Here comes the Glock cocked\n start_ms: 55250\n end_ms: 56140\n- text: 9 milli, pop pop pop, oh no\n start_ms: 56140\n end_ms: 58110\n- text: Making a mess, my aim ain't the best\n start_ms: 58110\n end_ms: 59950\n- text: I guess I should clean this all up and go home\n start_ms: 59950\n end_ms: 76800\n- text: Percocet, Roxycodone, with some Xanax\n start_ms: 76800\n end_ms: 78880\n- text: That I had crushed up in some dust (huh)\n start_ms: 78880\n end_ms: 80860\n- text: Elevated to another dimension so I got a limp in my strut (fuck)\n start_ms: 80860\n end_ms: 84780\n- text: I do not care to be here or be there\n start_ms: 84780\n end_ms: 86340\n- text: In the meantime it seems that I'm stuck (huh)\n start_ms: 86340\n end_ms: 88580\n- text: Swerving and crashing, that dying little bastard\n start_ms: 88580\n end_ms: 90320\n- text: Yung Christ, you address me as such (what)\n start_ms: 90320\n end_ms: 92450\n- text: Crazy little demon, they wave when they see me\n start_ms: 92450\n end_ms: 94260\n- text: Face tatted from ear to ear (yeah)\n start_ms: 94260\n end_ms: 96310\n- text: Northside boy with a Glock-sized toy\n start_ms: 96310\n end_ms: 98050\n- text: If I cock it, there's finna be tears here\n start_ms: 98050\n end_ms: 100250\n- text: Manic depressive, when life is in session\n start_ms: 100250\n end_ms: 102030\n- text: I hide in a room that's as dark as me\n start_ms: 102030\n end_ms: 104080\n- text: Dollar sign-B and it's still F-T-P\n start_ms: 104080\n end_ms: 105740\n- text: Fucking G-R-E-Y till I R-I-P\n start_ms: 105740\n end_ms: 111890\n- text: Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\n start_ms: 111890\n end_ms: 114220\n- text: Let ya brain soak\n start_ms: 114220\n end_ms: 119540\n- text: Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\n start_ms: 119540\n end_ms: 121580\n- text: Smoke scattered out, smoke scattered out\n start_ms: 121580\n end_ms: 122950\nplain: |-\n It's lonely at the top\n All of my enemies have been defeated (RIP)\n The crown has been sitting on my head for too long\n It's starting to give me these lesions (yeah, yeah)\n Don't follow the crowd, the crowd is misleading (no)\n Stay solo, surrounded by all of my demons (ay)\n Licking my wounds as they deepen (ay)\n Constantly feeding them all of my secrets\n 007, I got the golden gun, I got the golden gun\n I'm busting, open up the door (secrets)\n I'm at my breaking point, I cannot take this shit no more\n I'm ready to fucking explode\n Open up, knock knock\n Here comes the Glock cocked\n 9 milli, pop pop pop, oh no\n Making a mess, my aim ain't the best\n I guess I should clean this all up and go home\n Percocet, Roxycodone\n With some Xanax that I had crushed up in some dust (huh)\n Elevated to another dimension so I got a limp in my strut (fuck)\n I do not care to be here or be there\n In the meantime it seems that I'm stuck (huh)\n Swerving and crashing, that dying little bastard\n Yung Christ, you address me as such (what)\n Crazy little demon, they wave when they see me\n Face tatted from ear to ear (yeah)\n Northside boy with a Glock-sized toy\n If I cock it, there's finna be tears here\n Manic depressive, when life\n Is in session I hide in a room that's as dark as me\n Dollar sign-B and it's still F-T-P\n Fucking G-R-E-Y till I R-I-P\n"},{"id":34667364,"name":"That Just Isn't Empirically Possible","trackName":"That Just Isn't Empirically Possible","artistName":"Song","albumName":"$uicideboy$","duration":124.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\nSmoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\nLet ya brain soak\nFresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\nSmoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\nSmoke scattered out, smoke scattered out\nFresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\nSmoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\nLet ya brain soak\nFresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\nSmoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\nSmoke scattered out, smoke scattered out\n\nIt's lonely at the top\nAll of my enemies have been defeated (RIP)\nThe crown has been sitting on my head for too long\nIt's starting to give me these lesions (yeah, yeah)\nDon't follow the crowd, the crowd is misleading (no)\nStay solo, surrounded by all of my demons (ay)\nLicking my wounds as they deepen (ay)\nConstantly feeding them all of my secrets\n\n007, I got the golden gun, I got the golden gun\nI'm busting, open up the door (secrets)\nI'm at my breaking point, I cannot take this shit no more\nI'm ready to fucking explode\nOpen up, knock knock\nHere comes the Glock cocked\n9 milli, pop pop pop, oh no\nMaking a mess, my aim ain't the best\nI guess I should clean this all up and go home\n\nPercocet, Roxycodone, with some Xanax\nThat I had crushed up in some dust (huh)\nElevated to another dimension so I got a limp in my strut (fuck)\nI do not care to be here or be there\nIn the meantime it seems that I'm stuck (huh)\nSwerving and crashing, that dying little bastard\nYung Christ, you address me as such (what)\n\nCrazy little demon, they wave when they see me\nFace tatted from ear to ear (yeah)\nNorthside boy with a Glock-sized toy\nIf I cock it, there's finna be tears here\nManic depressive, when life is in session\nI hide in a room that's as dark as me\nDollar sign-B and it's still F-T-P\nFucking G-R-E-Y till I R-I-P\n\nSmoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\nLet ya brain soak\nSmoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\nSmoke scattered out, smoke scattered out","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.01] Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n[00:03.48] Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\n[00:05.85] Let ya brain soak\n[00:07.31] Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n[00:11.13] Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\n[00:13.11] Smoke scattered out, smoke scattered out\n[00:15.17] Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n[00:19.09] Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\n[00:21.49] Let ya brain soak\n[00:22.79] Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n[00:26.72] Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\n[00:28.73] Smoke scattered out, smoke scattered out\n[00:30.38] It's lonely at the top\n[00:31.95] All of my enemies have been defeated (RIP)\n[00:34.24] The crown has been sitting on my head for too long\n[00:36.20] It's starting to give me these lesions (yeah, yeah)\n[00:38.19] Don't follow the crowd, the crowd is misleading (no)\n[00:40.12] Stay solo, surrounded by all of my demons (ay)\n[00:42.68] Licking my wounds as they deepen (ay)\n[00:44.05] Constantly feeding them all of my secrets\n[00:46.12] 007, I got the golden gun, I got the golden gun\n[00:48.81] I'm busting, open up the door (secrets)\n[00:50.32] I'm at my breaking point, I cannot take this shit no more\n[00:52.69] I'm ready to fucking explode\n[00:54.27] Open up, knock knock\n[00:55.25] Here comes the Glock cocked\n[00:56.14] 9 milli, pop pop pop, oh no\n[00:58.11] Making a mess, my aim ain't the best\n[00:59.95] I guess I should clean this all up and go home\n[01:16.80] Percocet, Roxycodone, with some Xanax\n[01:18.88] That I had crushed up in some dust (huh)\n[01:20.86] Elevated to another dimension so I got a limp in my strut (fuck)\n[01:24.78] I do not care to be here or be there\n[01:26.34] In the meantime it seems that I'm stuck (huh)\n[01:28.58] Swerving and crashing, that dying little bastard\n[01:30.32] Yung Christ, you address me as such (what)\n[01:32.45] Crazy little demon, they wave when they see me\n[01:34.26] Face tatted from ear to ear (yeah)\n[01:36.31] Northside boy with a Glock-sized toy\n[01:38.05] If I cock it, there's finna be tears here\n[01:40.25] Manic depressive, when life is in session\n[01:42.03] I hide in a room that's as dark as me\n[01:44.08] Dollar sign-B and it's still F-T-P\n[01:45.74] Fucking G-R-E-Y till I R-I-P\n[01:51.89] Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\n[01:54.22] Let ya brain soak\n[01:59.54] Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\n[02:01.58] Smoke scattered out, smoke scattered out\n[02:02.95] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: That Just Isn't Empirically Possible\n artist: Song\n album: $uicideboy$\n duration_ms: 124000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n start_ms: 10\n end_ms: 3480\n- text: Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\n start_ms: 3480\n end_ms: 5850\n- text: Let ya brain soak\n start_ms: 5850\n end_ms: 7310\n- text: Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n start_ms: 7310\n end_ms: 11130\n- text: Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\n start_ms: 11130\n end_ms: 13110\n- text: Smoke scattered out, smoke scattered out\n start_ms: 13110\n end_ms: 15170\n- text: Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n start_ms: 15170\n end_ms: 19090\n- text: Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\n start_ms: 19090\n end_ms: 21490\n- text: Let ya brain soak\n start_ms: 21490\n end_ms: 22790\n- text: Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n start_ms: 22790\n end_ms: 26720\n- text: Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\n start_ms: 26720\n end_ms: 28730\n- text: Smoke scattered out, smoke scattered out\n start_ms: 28730\n end_ms: 30380\n- text: It's lonely at the top\n start_ms: 30380\n end_ms: 31950\n- text: All of my enemies have been defeated (RIP)\n start_ms: 31950\n end_ms: 34240\n- text: The crown has been sitting on my head for too long\n start_ms: 34240\n end_ms: 36200\n- text: It's starting to give me these lesions (yeah, yeah)\n start_ms: 36200\n end_ms: 38190\n- text: Don't follow the crowd, the crowd is misleading (no)\n start_ms: 38190\n end_ms: 40120\n- text: Stay solo, surrounded by all of my demons (ay)\n start_ms: 40120\n end_ms: 42680\n- text: Licking my wounds as they deepen (ay)\n start_ms: 42680\n end_ms: 44050\n- text: Constantly feeding them all of my secrets\n start_ms: 44050\n end_ms: 46120\n- text: 007, I got the golden gun, I got the golden gun\n start_ms: 46120\n end_ms: 48810\n- text: I'm busting, open up the door (secrets)\n start_ms: 48810\n end_ms: 50320\n- text: I'm at my breaking point, I cannot take this shit no more\n start_ms: 50320\n end_ms: 52690\n- text: I'm ready to fucking explode\n start_ms: 52690\n end_ms: 54270\n- text: Open up, knock knock\n start_ms: 54270\n end_ms: 55250\n- text: Here comes the Glock cocked\n start_ms: 55250\n end_ms: 56140\n- text: 9 milli, pop pop pop, oh no\n start_ms: 56140\n end_ms: 58110\n- text: Making a mess, my aim ain't the best\n start_ms: 58110\n end_ms: 59950\n- text: I guess I should clean this all up and go home\n start_ms: 59950\n end_ms: 76800\n- text: Percocet, Roxycodone, with some Xanax\n start_ms: 76800\n end_ms: 78880\n- text: That I had crushed up in some dust (huh)\n start_ms: 78880\n end_ms: 80860\n- text: Elevated to another dimension so I got a limp in my strut (fuck)\n start_ms: 80860\n end_ms: 84780\n- text: I do not care to be here or be there\n start_ms: 84780\n end_ms: 86340\n- text: In the meantime it seems that I'm stuck (huh)\n start_ms: 86340\n end_ms: 88580\n- text: Swerving and crashing, that dying little bastard\n start_ms: 88580\n end_ms: 90320\n- text: Yung Christ, you address me as such (what)\n start_ms: 90320\n end_ms: 92450\n- text: Crazy little demon, they wave when they see me\n start_ms: 92450\n end_ms: 94260\n- text: Face tatted from ear to ear (yeah)\n start_ms: 94260\n end_ms: 96310\n- text: Northside boy with a Glock-sized toy\n start_ms: 96310\n end_ms: 98050\n- text: If I cock it, there's finna be tears here\n start_ms: 98050\n end_ms: 100250\n- text: Manic depressive, when life is in session\n start_ms: 100250\n end_ms: 102030\n- text: I hide in a room that's as dark as me\n start_ms: 102030\n end_ms: 104080\n- text: Dollar sign-B and it's still F-T-P\n start_ms: 104080\n end_ms: 105740\n- text: Fucking G-R-E-Y till I R-I-P\n start_ms: 105740\n end_ms: 111890\n- text: Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\n start_ms: 111890\n end_ms: 114220\n- text: Let ya brain soak\n start_ms: 114220\n end_ms: 119540\n- text: Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\n start_ms: 119540\n end_ms: 121580\n- text: Smoke scattered out, smoke scattered out\n start_ms: 121580\n end_ms: 122950\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 122950\nplain: |-\n Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\n Let ya brain soak\n Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\n Smoke scattered out, smoke scattered out\n Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\n Let ya brain soak\n Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\n Smoke scattered out, smoke scattered out\n\n It's lonely at the top\n All of my enemies have been defeated (RIP)\n The crown has been sitting on my head for too long\n It's starting to give me these lesions (yeah, yeah)\n Don't follow the crowd, the crowd is misleading (no)\n Stay solo, surrounded by all of my demons (ay)\n Licking my wounds as they deepen (ay)\n Constantly feeding them all of my secrets\n\n 007, I got the golden gun, I got the golden gun\n I'm busting, open up the door (secrets)\n I'm at my breaking point, I cannot take this shit no more\n I'm ready to fucking explode\n Open up, knock knock\n Here comes the Glock cocked\n 9 milli, pop pop pop, oh no\n Making a mess, my aim ain't the best\n I guess I should clean this all up and go home\n\n Percocet, Roxycodone, with some Xanax\n That I had crushed up in some dust (huh)\n Elevated to another dimension so I got a limp in my strut (fuck)\n I do not care to be here or be there\n In the meantime it seems that I'm stuck (huh)\n Swerving and crashing, that dying little bastard\n Yung Christ, you address me as such (what)\n\n Crazy little demon, they wave when they see me\n Face tatted from ear to ear (yeah)\n Northside boy with a Glock-sized toy\n If I cock it, there's finna be tears here\n Manic depressive, when life is in session\n I hide in a room that's as dark as me\n Dollar sign-B and it's still F-T-P\n Fucking G-R-E-Y till I R-I-P\n\n Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\n Let ya brain soak\n Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\n Smoke scattered out, smoke scattered out\n"},{"id":817136,"name":"That Just Isn't Empirically Possible","trackName":"That Just Isn't Empirically Possible","artistName":"$uicideboy$","albumName":"Stop Staring At the Shadows","duration":124.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"It's lonely at the top\nAll of my enemies have been defeated (RIP)\nThe crown has been sitting on my head for too long\nIt's starting to give me these lesions (yeah, yeah)\nDon't follow the crowd, the crowd is misleading (no)\nStay solo, surrounded by all of my demons (ay)\nLicking my wounds as they deepen (ay)\nConstantly feeding them all of my secrets\n007, I got the golden gun, I got the golden gun\nI'm busting, open up the door (secrets)\nI'm at my breaking point, I cannot take this shit no more\nI'm ready to fucking explode\nOpen up, knock knock\nHere comes the Glock cocked\n9 milli, pop pop pop, oh no\nMaking a mess, my aim ain't the best\nI guess I should clean this all up and go home\n♪\nPercocet, Roxycodone, with some Xanax that I had crushed up in some dust (huh)\nElevated to another dimension so I got a limp in my strut (fuck)\nI do not care to be here or be there\nIn the meantime it seems that I'm stuck (huh)\nSwerving and crashing, that dying little bastard\nYung Christ, you address me as such (what)\nCrazy little demon, they wave when they see me\nFace tatted from ear to ear (yeah)\nNorthside boy with a Glock-sized toy\nIf I cock it, there's finna be tears here\nManic depressive, when life is in session I hide in a room that's as dark as me\nDollar sign-B and it's still F-T-P\nFucking G-R-E-Y till I R-I-P\n\n","syncedLyrics":"[00:31.01] It's lonely at the top\n[00:32.41] All of my enemies have been defeated (RIP)\n[00:34.69] The crown has been sitting on my head for too long\n[00:36.40] It's starting to give me these lesions (yeah, yeah)\n[00:38.25] Don't follow the crowd, the crowd is misleading (no)\n[00:40.16] Stay solo, surrounded by all of my demons (ay)\n[00:42.85] Licking my wounds as they deepen (ay)\n[00:44.15] Constantly feeding them all of my secrets\n[00:46.38] 007, I got the golden gun, I got the golden gun\n[00:49.02] I'm busting, open up the door (secrets)\n[00:50.62] I'm at my breaking point, I cannot take this shit no more\n[00:52.83] I'm ready to fucking explode\n[00:54.58] Open up, knock knock\n[00:55.53] Here comes the Glock cocked\n[00:56.60] 9 milli, pop pop pop, oh no\n[00:58.42] Making a mess, my aim ain't the best\n[01:00.23] I guess I should clean this all up and go home\n[01:03.41] ♪\n[01:17.18] Percocet, Roxycodone, with some Xanax that I had crushed up in some dust (huh)\n[01:21.27] Elevated to another dimension so I got a limp in my strut (fuck)\n[01:25.05] I do not care to be here or be there\n[01:26.59] In the meantime it seems that I'm stuck (huh)\n[01:28.83] Swerving and crashing, that dying little bastard\n[01:30.67] Yung Christ, you address me as such (what)\n[01:32.76] Crazy little demon, they wave when they see me\n[01:34.55] Face tatted from ear to ear (yeah)\n[01:36.53] Northside boy with a Glock-sized toy\n[01:38.35] If I cock it, there's finna be tears here\n[01:40.44] Manic depressive, when life is in session I hide in a room that's as dark as me\n[01:44.20] Dollar sign-B and it's still F-T-P\n[01:46.06] Fucking G-R-E-Y till I R-I-P\n[01:47.85] \n","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: That Just Isn't Empirically Possible\n artist: $uicideboy$\n album: Stop Staring At the Shadows\n duration_ms: 124000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: It's lonely at the top\n start_ms: 31010\n end_ms: 32410\n- text: All of my enemies have been defeated (RIP)\n start_ms: 32410\n end_ms: 34690\n- text: The crown has been sitting on my head for too long\n start_ms: 34690\n end_ms: 36400\n- text: It's starting to give me these lesions (yeah, yeah)\n start_ms: 36400\n end_ms: 38250\n- text: Don't follow the crowd, the crowd is misleading (no)\n start_ms: 38250\n end_ms: 40160\n- text: Stay solo, surrounded by all of my demons (ay)\n start_ms: 40160\n end_ms: 42850\n- text: Licking my wounds as they deepen (ay)\n start_ms: 42850\n end_ms: 44150\n- text: Constantly feeding them all of my secrets\n start_ms: 44150\n end_ms: 46380\n- text: 007, I got the golden gun, I got the golden gun\n start_ms: 46380\n end_ms: 49020\n- text: I'm busting, open up the door (secrets)\n start_ms: 49020\n end_ms: 50620\n- text: I'm at my breaking point, I cannot take this shit no more\n start_ms: 50620\n end_ms: 52830\n- text: I'm ready to fucking explode\n start_ms: 52830\n end_ms: 54580\n- text: Open up, knock knock\n start_ms: 54580\n end_ms: 55530\n- text: Here comes the Glock cocked\n start_ms: 55530\n end_ms: 56600\n- text: 9 milli, pop pop pop, oh no\n start_ms: 56600\n end_ms: 58420\n- text: Making a mess, my aim ain't the best\n start_ms: 58420\n end_ms: 60230\n- text: I guess I should clean this all up and go home\n start_ms: 60230\n end_ms: 63410\n- text: ♪\n start_ms: 63410\n end_ms: 77180\n- text: Percocet, Roxycodone, with some Xanax that I had crushed up in some dust (huh)\n start_ms: 77180\n end_ms: 81270\n- text: Elevated to another dimension so I got a limp in my strut (fuck)\n start_ms: 81270\n end_ms: 85050\n- text: I do not care to be here or be there\n start_ms: 85050\n end_ms: 86590\n- text: In the meantime it seems that I'm stuck (huh)\n start_ms: 86590\n end_ms: 88830\n- text: Swerving and crashing, that dying little bastard\n start_ms: 88830\n end_ms: 90670\n- text: Yung Christ, you address me as such (what)\n start_ms: 90670\n end_ms: 92760\n- text: Crazy little demon, they wave when they see me\n start_ms: 92760\n end_ms: 94550\n- text: Face tatted from ear to ear (yeah)\n start_ms: 94550\n end_ms: 96530\n- text: Northside boy with a Glock-sized toy\n start_ms: 96530\n end_ms: 98350\n- text: If I cock it, there's finna be tears here\n start_ms: 98350\n end_ms: 100440\n- text: Manic depressive, when life is in session I hide in a room that's as dark as me\n start_ms: 100440\n end_ms: 104200\n- text: Dollar sign-B and it's still F-T-P\n start_ms: 104200\n end_ms: 106060\n- text: Fucking G-R-E-Y till I R-I-P\n start_ms: 106060\n end_ms: 107850\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 107850\nplain: |+\n It's lonely at the top\n All of my enemies have been defeated (RIP)\n The crown has been sitting on my head for too long\n It's starting to give me these lesions (yeah, yeah)\n Don't follow the crowd, the crowd is misleading (no)\n Stay solo, surrounded by all of my demons (ay)\n Licking my wounds as they deepen (ay)\n Constantly feeding them all of my secrets\n 007, I got the golden gun, I got the golden gun\n I'm busting, open up the door (secrets)\n I'm at my breaking point, I cannot take this shit no more\n I'm ready to fucking explode\n Open up, knock knock\n Here comes the Glock cocked\n 9 milli, pop pop pop, oh no\n Making a mess, my aim ain't the best\n I guess I should clean this all up and go home\n ♪\n Percocet, Roxycodone, with some Xanax that I had crushed up in some dust (huh)\n Elevated to another dimension so I got a limp in my strut (fuck)\n I do not care to be here or be there\n In the meantime it seems that I'm stuck (huh)\n Swerving and crashing, that dying little bastard\n Yung Christ, you address me as such (what)\n Crazy little demon, they wave when they see me\n Face tatted from ear to ear (yeah)\n Northside boy with a Glock-sized toy\n If I cock it, there's finna be tears here\n Manic depressive, when life is in session I hide in a room that's as dark as me\n Dollar sign-B and it's still F-T-P\n Fucking G-R-E-Y till I R-I-P\n\n"},{"id":34923309,"name":"That Just isn't Empirically Possible","trackName":"That Just isn't Empirically Possible","artistName":"$uicideboy$","albumName":"Singles","duration":118.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"It's lonely at the top\nAll of my enemies have been defeated (RIP)\nThe crown has been sitting on my head for too long\nIt's starting to give me these lesions (yeah, yeah)\nDon't follow the crowd, the crowd is misleading (no)\nStay solo, surrounded by all of my demons (ay)\nLicking my wounds as they deepen (ay)\nConstantly feeding them all of my secrets\n007, I got the golden gun, I got the golden gun\nI'm busting, open up the door (secrets)\nI'm at my breaking point, I cannot take this shit no more\nI'm ready to fucking explode\nOpen up, knock knock\nHere comes the Glock cocked\n9 milli, pop pop pop, oh no\nMaking a mess, my aim ain't the best\nI guess I should clean this all up and go home\n♪\nPercocet, Roxycodone, with some Xanax that I had crushed up in some dust (huh)\nElevated to another dimension so I got a limp in my strut (fuck)\nI do not care to be here or be there\nIn the meantime it seems that I'm stuck (huh)\nSwerving and crashing, that dying little bastard\nYung Christ, you address me as such (what)\nCrazy little demon, they wave when they see me\nFace tatted from ear to ear (yeah)\nNorthside boy with a Glock-sized toy\nIf I cock it, there's finna be tears here\nManic depressive, when life is in session I hide in a room that's as dark as me\nDollar sign-B and it's still F-T-P\nFucking G-R-E-Y till I R-I-P\n\n","syncedLyrics":"[00:31.01] It's lonely at the top\n[00:32.41] All of my enemies have been defeated (RIP)\n[00:34.69] The crown has been sitting on my head for too long\n[00:36.40] It's starting to give me these lesions (yeah, yeah)\n[00:38.25] Don't follow the crowd, the crowd is misleading (no)\n[00:40.16] Stay solo, surrounded by all of my demons (ay)\n[00:42.85] Licking my wounds as they deepen (ay)\n[00:44.15] Constantly feeding them all of my secrets\n[00:46.38] 007, I got the golden gun, I got the golden gun\n[00:49.02] I'm busting, open up the door (secrets)\n[00:50.62] I'm at my breaking point, I cannot take this shit no more\n[00:52.83] I'm ready to fucking explode\n[00:54.58] Open up, knock knock\n[00:55.53] Here comes the Glock cocked\n[00:56.60] 9 milli, pop pop pop, oh no\n[00:58.42] Making a mess, my aim ain't the best\n[01:00.23] I guess I should clean this all up and go home\n[01:03.41] ♪\n[01:17.18] Percocet, Roxycodone, with some Xanax that I had crushed up in some dust (huh)\n[01:21.27] Elevated to another dimension so I got a limp in my strut (fuck)\n[01:25.05] I do not care to be here or be there\n[01:26.59] In the meantime it seems that I'm stuck (huh)\n[01:28.83] Swerving and crashing, that dying little bastard\n[01:30.67] Yung Christ, you address me as such (what)\n[01:32.76] Crazy little demon, they wave when they see me\n[01:34.55] Face tatted from ear to ear (yeah)\n[01:36.53] Northside boy with a Glock-sized toy\n[01:38.35] If I cock it, there's finna be tears here\n[01:40.44] Manic depressive, when life is in session I hide in a room that's as dark as me\n[01:44.20] Dollar sign-B and it's still F-T-P\n[01:46.06] Fucking G-R-E-Y till I R-I-P\n[01:47.85] \n","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: That Just isn't Empirically Possible\n artist: $uicideboy$\n album: Singles\n duration_ms: 118000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: It's lonely at the top\n start_ms: 31010\n end_ms: 32410\n- text: All of my enemies have been defeated (RIP)\n start_ms: 32410\n end_ms: 34690\n- text: The crown has been sitting on my head for too long\n start_ms: 34690\n end_ms: 36400\n- text: It's starting to give me these lesions (yeah, yeah)\n start_ms: 36400\n end_ms: 38250\n- text: Don't follow the crowd, the crowd is misleading (no)\n start_ms: 38250\n end_ms: 40160\n- text: Stay solo, surrounded by all of my demons (ay)\n start_ms: 40160\n end_ms: 42850\n- text: Licking my wounds as they deepen (ay)\n start_ms: 42850\n end_ms: 44150\n- text: Constantly feeding them all of my secrets\n start_ms: 44150\n end_ms: 46380\n- text: 007, I got the golden gun, I got the golden gun\n start_ms: 46380\n end_ms: 49020\n- text: I'm busting, open up the door (secrets)\n start_ms: 49020\n end_ms: 50620\n- text: I'm at my breaking point, I cannot take this shit no more\n start_ms: 50620\n end_ms: 52830\n- text: I'm ready to fucking explode\n start_ms: 52830\n end_ms: 54580\n- text: Open up, knock knock\n start_ms: 54580\n end_ms: 55530\n- text: Here comes the Glock cocked\n start_ms: 55530\n end_ms: 56600\n- text: 9 milli, pop pop pop, oh no\n start_ms: 56600\n end_ms: 58420\n- text: Making a mess, my aim ain't the best\n start_ms: 58420\n end_ms: 60230\n- text: I guess I should clean this all up and go home\n start_ms: 60230\n end_ms: 63410\n- text: ♪\n start_ms: 63410\n end_ms: 77180\n- text: Percocet, Roxycodone, with some Xanax that I had crushed up in some dust (huh)\n start_ms: 77180\n end_ms: 81270\n- text: Elevated to another dimension so I got a limp in my strut (fuck)\n start_ms: 81270\n end_ms: 85050\n- text: I do not care to be here or be there\n start_ms: 85050\n end_ms: 86590\n- text: In the meantime it seems that I'm stuck (huh)\n start_ms: 86590\n end_ms: 88830\n- text: Swerving and crashing, that dying little bastard\n start_ms: 88830\n end_ms: 90670\n- text: Yung Christ, you address me as such (what)\n start_ms: 90670\n end_ms: 92760\n- text: Crazy little demon, they wave when they see me\n start_ms: 92760\n end_ms: 94550\n- text: Face tatted from ear to ear (yeah)\n start_ms: 94550\n end_ms: 96530\n- text: Northside boy with a Glock-sized toy\n start_ms: 96530\n end_ms: 98350\n- text: If I cock it, there's finna be tears here\n start_ms: 98350\n end_ms: 100440\n- text: Manic depressive, when life is in session I hide in a room that's as dark as me\n start_ms: 100440\n end_ms: 104200\n- text: Dollar sign-B and it's still F-T-P\n start_ms: 104200\n end_ms: 106060\n- text: Fucking G-R-E-Y till I R-I-P\n start_ms: 106060\n end_ms: 107850\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 107850\nplain: |+\n It's lonely at the top\n All of my enemies have been defeated (RIP)\n The crown has been sitting on my head for too long\n It's starting to give me these lesions (yeah, yeah)\n Don't follow the crowd, the crowd is misleading (no)\n Stay solo, surrounded by all of my demons (ay)\n Licking my wounds as they deepen (ay)\n Constantly feeding them all of my secrets\n 007, I got the golden gun, I got the golden gun\n I'm busting, open up the door (secrets)\n I'm at my breaking point, I cannot take this shit no more\n I'm ready to fucking explode\n Open up, knock knock\n Here comes the Glock cocked\n 9 milli, pop pop pop, oh no\n Making a mess, my aim ain't the best\n I guess I should clean this all up and go home\n ♪\n Percocet, Roxycodone, with some Xanax that I had crushed up in some dust (huh)\n Elevated to another dimension so I got a limp in my strut (fuck)\n I do not care to be here or be there\n In the meantime it seems that I'm stuck (huh)\n Swerving and crashing, that dying little bastard\n Yung Christ, you address me as such (what)\n Crazy little demon, they wave when they see me\n Face tatted from ear to ear (yeah)\n Northside boy with a Glock-sized toy\n If I cock it, there's finna be tears here\n Manic depressive, when life is in session I hide in a room that's as dark as me\n Dollar sign-B and it's still F-T-P\n Fucking G-R-E-Y till I R-I-P\n\n"},{"id":34044251,"name":"That Just Isn’t Empirically Possible","trackName":"That Just Isn’t Empirically Possible","artistName":"$uicideboy$","albumName":"null","duration":124.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"It's lonely at the top\nAll of my enemies have been defeated (RIP)\nThe crown has been sitting on my head for too long\nIt's starting to give me these lesions (yeah, yeah)\nDon't follow the crowd, the crowd is misleading (no)\nStay solo, surrounded by all of my demons (ay)\nLicking my wounds as they deepen (ay)\nConstantly feeding them all of my secrets\n007, I got the golden gun, I got the golden gun\nI'm busting, open up the door (secrets)\nI'm at my breaking point, I cannot take this shit no more\nI'm ready to fucking explode\nOpen up, knock knock\nHere comes the Glock cocked\n9 milli, pop pop pop, oh no\nMaking a mess, my aim ain't the best\nI guess I should clean this all up and go home\n♪\nPercocet, Roxycodone, with some Xanax that I had crushed up in some dust (huh)\nElevated to another dimension so I got a limp in my strut (fuck)\nI do not care to be here or be there\nIn the meantime it seems that I'm stuck (huh)\nSwerving and crashing, that dying little bastard\nYung Christ, you address me as such (what)\nCrazy little demon, they wave when they see me\nFace tatted from ear to ear (yeah)\nNorthside boy with a Glock-sized toy\nIf I cock it, there's finna be tears here\nManic depressive, when life is in session I hide in a room that's as dark as me\nDollar sign-B and it's still F-T-P\nFucking G-R-E-Y till I R-I-P\n\n","syncedLyrics":"[00:31.01] It's lonely at the top\n[00:32.41] All of my enemies have been defeated (RIP)\n[00:34.69] The crown has been sitting on my head for too long\n[00:36.40] It's starting to give me these lesions (yeah, yeah)\n[00:38.25] Don't follow the crowd, the crowd is misleading (no)\n[00:40.16] Stay solo, surrounded by all of my demons (ay)\n[00:42.85] Licking my wounds as they deepen (ay)\n[00:44.15] Constantly feeding them all of my secrets\n[00:46.38] 007, I got the golden gun, I got the golden gun\n[00:49.02] I'm busting, open up the door (secrets)\n[00:50.62] I'm at my breaking point, I cannot take this shit no more\n[00:52.83] I'm ready to fucking explode\n[00:54.58] Open up, knock knock\n[00:55.53] Here comes the Glock cocked\n[00:56.60] 9 milli, pop pop pop, oh no\n[00:58.42] Making a mess, my aim ain't the best\n[01:00.23] I guess I should clean this all up and go home\n[01:03.41] ♪\n[01:17.18] Percocet, Roxycodone, with some Xanax that I had crushed up in some dust (huh)\n[01:21.27] Elevated to another dimension so I got a limp in my strut (fuck)\n[01:25.05] I do not care to be here or be there\n[01:26.59] In the meantime it seems that I'm stuck (huh)\n[01:28.83] Swerving and crashing, that dying little bastard\n[01:30.67] Yung Christ, you address me as such (what)\n[01:32.76] Crazy little demon, they wave when they see me\n[01:34.55] Face tatted from ear to ear (yeah)\n[01:36.53] Northside boy with a Glock-sized toy\n[01:38.35] If I cock it, there's finna be tears here\n[01:40.44] Manic depressive, when life is in session I hide in a room that's as dark as me\n[01:44.20] Dollar sign-B and it's still F-T-P\n[01:46.06] Fucking G-R-E-Y till I R-I-P\n[01:47.85] \n","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: That Just Isn’t Empirically Possible\n artist: $uicideboy$\n album: 'null'\n duration_ms: 124000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: It's lonely at the top\n start_ms: 31010\n end_ms: 32410\n- text: All of my enemies have been defeated (RIP)\n start_ms: 32410\n end_ms: 34690\n- text: The crown has been sitting on my head for too long\n start_ms: 34690\n end_ms: 36400\n- text: It's starting to give me these lesions (yeah, yeah)\n start_ms: 36400\n end_ms: 38250\n- text: Don't follow the crowd, the crowd is misleading (no)\n start_ms: 38250\n end_ms: 40160\n- text: Stay solo, surrounded by all of my demons (ay)\n start_ms: 40160\n end_ms: 42850\n- text: Licking my wounds as they deepen (ay)\n start_ms: 42850\n end_ms: 44150\n- text: Constantly feeding them all of my secrets\n start_ms: 44150\n end_ms: 46380\n- text: 007, I got the golden gun, I got the golden gun\n start_ms: 46380\n end_ms: 49020\n- text: I'm busting, open up the door (secrets)\n start_ms: 49020\n end_ms: 50620\n- text: I'm at my breaking point, I cannot take this shit no more\n start_ms: 50620\n end_ms: 52830\n- text: I'm ready to fucking explode\n start_ms: 52830\n end_ms: 54580\n- text: Open up, knock knock\n start_ms: 54580\n end_ms: 55530\n- text: Here comes the Glock cocked\n start_ms: 55530\n end_ms: 56600\n- text: 9 milli, pop pop pop, oh no\n start_ms: 56600\n end_ms: 58420\n- text: Making a mess, my aim ain't the best\n start_ms: 58420\n end_ms: 60230\n- text: I guess I should clean this all up and go home\n start_ms: 60230\n end_ms: 63410\n- text: ♪\n start_ms: 63410\n end_ms: 77180\n- text: Percocet, Roxycodone, with some Xanax that I had crushed up in some dust (huh)\n start_ms: 77180\n end_ms: 81270\n- text: Elevated to another dimension so I got a limp in my strut (fuck)\n start_ms: 81270\n end_ms: 85050\n- text: I do not care to be here or be there\n start_ms: 85050\n end_ms: 86590\n- text: In the meantime it seems that I'm stuck (huh)\n start_ms: 86590\n end_ms: 88830\n- text: Swerving and crashing, that dying little bastard\n start_ms: 88830\n end_ms: 90670\n- text: Yung Christ, you address me as such (what)\n start_ms: 90670\n end_ms: 92760\n- text: Crazy little demon, they wave when they see me\n start_ms: 92760\n end_ms: 94550\n- text: Face tatted from ear to ear (yeah)\n start_ms: 94550\n end_ms: 96530\n- text: Northside boy with a Glock-sized toy\n start_ms: 96530\n end_ms: 98350\n- text: If I cock it, there's finna be tears here\n start_ms: 98350\n end_ms: 100440\n- text: Manic depressive, when life is in session I hide in a room that's as dark as me\n start_ms: 100440\n end_ms: 104200\n- text: Dollar sign-B and it's still F-T-P\n start_ms: 104200\n end_ms: 106060\n- text: Fucking G-R-E-Y till I R-I-P\n start_ms: 106060\n end_ms: 107850\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 107850\nplain: |+\n It's lonely at the top\n All of my enemies have been defeated (RIP)\n The crown has been sitting on my head for too long\n It's starting to give me these lesions (yeah, yeah)\n Don't follow the crowd, the crowd is misleading (no)\n Stay solo, surrounded by all of my demons (ay)\n Licking my wounds as they deepen (ay)\n Constantly feeding them all of my secrets\n 007, I got the golden gun, I got the golden gun\n I'm busting, open up the door (secrets)\n I'm at my breaking point, I cannot take this shit no more\n I'm ready to fucking explode\n Open up, knock knock\n Here comes the Glock cocked\n 9 milli, pop pop pop, oh no\n Making a mess, my aim ain't the best\n I guess I should clean this all up and go home\n ♪\n Percocet, Roxycodone, with some Xanax that I had crushed up in some dust (huh)\n Elevated to another dimension so I got a limp in my strut (fuck)\n I do not care to be here or be there\n In the meantime it seems that I'm stuck (huh)\n Swerving and crashing, that dying little bastard\n Yung Christ, you address me as such (what)\n Crazy little demon, they wave when they see me\n Face tatted from ear to ear (yeah)\n Northside boy with a Glock-sized toy\n If I cock it, there's finna be tears here\n Manic depressive, when life is in session I hide in a room that's as dark as me\n Dollar sign-B and it's still F-T-P\n Fucking G-R-E-Y till I R-I-P\n\n"},{"id":28844445,"name":"That Just Isn't Empirically Possible","trackName":"That Just Isn't Empirically Possible","artistName":"$uicideboy$","albumName":"Stop Staring At the Shadows","duration":117.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"It's lonely at the top\nAll of my enemies have been defeated (RIP)\nThe crown has been sitting on my head for too long\nIt's starting to give me these lesions (yeah, yeah)\nDon't follow the crowd, the crowd is misleading (no)\nStay solo, surrounded by all of my demons (ay)\nLicking my wounds as they deepen (ay)\nConstantly feeding them all of my secrets\n007, I got the golden gun, I got the golden gun\nI'm busting, open up the door (secrets)\nI'm at my breaking point, I cannot take this shit no more\nI'm ready to fucking explode\nOpen up, knock knock\nHere comes the Glock cocked\n9 milli, pop pop pop, oh no\nMaking a mess, my aim ain't the best\nI guess I should clean this all up and go home\n♪\nPercocet, Roxycodone, with some Xanax that I had crushed up in some dust (huh)\nElevated to another dimension so I got a limp in my strut (fuck)\nI do not care to be here or be there\nIn the meantime it seems that I'm stuck (huh)\nSwerving and crashing, that dying little bastard\nYung Christ, you address me as such (what)\nCrazy little demon, they wave when they see me\nFace tatted from ear to ear (yeah)\nNorthside boy with a Glock-sized toy\nIf I cock it, there's finna be tears here\nManic depressive, when life is in session I hide in a room that's as dark as me\nDollar sign-B and it's still F-T-P\nFucking G-R-E-Y till I R-I-P\n\n","syncedLyrics":"[00:31.01] It's lonely at the top\n[00:32.41] All of my enemies have been defeated (RIP)\n[00:34.69] The crown has been sitting on my head for too long\n[00:36.40] It's starting to give me these lesions (yeah, yeah)\n[00:38.25] Don't follow the crowd, the crowd is misleading (no)\n[00:40.16] Stay solo, surrounded by all of my demons (ay)\n[00:42.85] Licking my wounds as they deepen (ay)\n[00:44.15] Constantly feeding them all of my secrets\n[00:46.38] 007, I got the golden gun, I got the golden gun\n[00:49.02] I'm busting, open up the door (secrets)\n[00:50.62] I'm at my breaking point, I cannot take this shit no more\n[00:52.83] I'm ready to fucking explode\n[00:54.58] Open up, knock knock\n[00:55.53] Here comes the Glock cocked\n[00:56.60] 9 milli, pop pop pop, oh no\n[00:58.42] Making a mess, my aim ain't the best\n[01:00.23] I guess I should clean this all up and go home\n[01:03.41] ♪\n[01:17.18] Percocet, Roxycodone, with some Xanax that I had crushed up in some dust (huh)\n[01:21.27] Elevated to another dimension so I got a limp in my strut (fuck)\n[01:25.05] I do not care to be here or be there\n[01:26.59] In the meantime it seems that I'm stuck (huh)\n[01:28.83] Swerving and crashing, that dying little bastard\n[01:30.67] Yung Christ, you address me as such (what)\n[01:32.76] Crazy little demon, they wave when they see me\n[01:34.55] Face tatted from ear to ear (yeah)\n[01:36.53] Northside boy with a Glock-sized toy\n[01:38.35] If I cock it, there's finna be tears here\n[01:40.44] Manic depressive, when life is in session I hide in a room that's as dark as me\n[01:44.20] Dollar sign-B and it's still F-T-P\n[01:46.06] Fucking G-R-E-Y till I R-I-P\n[01:47.85] \n","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: That Just Isn't Empirically Possible\n artist: $uicideboy$\n album: Stop Staring At the Shadows\n duration_ms: 117000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: It's lonely at the top\n start_ms: 31010\n end_ms: 32410\n- text: All of my enemies have been defeated (RIP)\n start_ms: 32410\n end_ms: 34690\n- text: The crown has been sitting on my head for too long\n start_ms: 34690\n end_ms: 36400\n- text: It's starting to give me these lesions (yeah, yeah)\n start_ms: 36400\n end_ms: 38250\n- text: Don't follow the crowd, the crowd is misleading (no)\n start_ms: 38250\n end_ms: 40160\n- text: Stay solo, surrounded by all of my demons (ay)\n start_ms: 40160\n end_ms: 42850\n- text: Licking my wounds as they deepen (ay)\n start_ms: 42850\n end_ms: 44150\n- text: Constantly feeding them all of my secrets\n start_ms: 44150\n end_ms: 46380\n- text: 007, I got the golden gun, I got the golden gun\n start_ms: 46380\n end_ms: 49020\n- text: I'm busting, open up the door (secrets)\n start_ms: 49020\n end_ms: 50620\n- text: I'm at my breaking point, I cannot take this shit no more\n start_ms: 50620\n end_ms: 52830\n- text: I'm ready to fucking explode\n start_ms: 52830\n end_ms: 54580\n- text: Open up, knock knock\n start_ms: 54580\n end_ms: 55530\n- text: Here comes the Glock cocked\n start_ms: 55530\n end_ms: 56600\n- text: 9 milli, pop pop pop, oh no\n start_ms: 56600\n end_ms: 58420\n- text: Making a mess, my aim ain't the best\n start_ms: 58420\n end_ms: 60230\n- text: I guess I should clean this all up and go home\n start_ms: 60230\n end_ms: 63410\n- text: ♪\n start_ms: 63410\n end_ms: 77180\n- text: Percocet, Roxycodone, with some Xanax that I had crushed up in some dust (huh)\n start_ms: 77180\n end_ms: 81270\n- text: Elevated to another dimension so I got a limp in my strut (fuck)\n start_ms: 81270\n end_ms: 85050\n- text: I do not care to be here or be there\n start_ms: 85050\n end_ms: 86590\n- text: In the meantime it seems that I'm stuck (huh)\n start_ms: 86590\n end_ms: 88830\n- text: Swerving and crashing, that dying little bastard\n start_ms: 88830\n end_ms: 90670\n- text: Yung Christ, you address me as such (what)\n start_ms: 90670\n end_ms: 92760\n- text: Crazy little demon, they wave when they see me\n start_ms: 92760\n end_ms: 94550\n- text: Face tatted from ear to ear (yeah)\n start_ms: 94550\n end_ms: 96530\n- text: Northside boy with a Glock-sized toy\n start_ms: 96530\n end_ms: 98350\n- text: If I cock it, there's finna be tears here\n start_ms: 98350\n end_ms: 100440\n- text: Manic depressive, when life is in session I hide in a room that's as dark as me\n start_ms: 100440\n end_ms: 104200\n- text: Dollar sign-B and it's still F-T-P\n start_ms: 104200\n end_ms: 106060\n- text: Fucking G-R-E-Y till I R-I-P\n start_ms: 106060\n end_ms: 107850\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 107850\nplain: |+\n It's lonely at the top\n All of my enemies have been defeated (RIP)\n The crown has been sitting on my head for too long\n It's starting to give me these lesions (yeah, yeah)\n Don't follow the crowd, the crowd is misleading (no)\n Stay solo, surrounded by all of my demons (ay)\n Licking my wounds as they deepen (ay)\n Constantly feeding them all of my secrets\n 007, I got the golden gun, I got the golden gun\n I'm busting, open up the door (secrets)\n I'm at my breaking point, I cannot take this shit no more\n I'm ready to fucking explode\n Open up, knock knock\n Here comes the Glock cocked\n 9 milli, pop pop pop, oh no\n Making a mess, my aim ain't the best\n I guess I should clean this all up and go home\n ♪\n Percocet, Roxycodone, with some Xanax that I had crushed up in some dust (huh)\n Elevated to another dimension so I got a limp in my strut (fuck)\n I do not care to be here or be there\n In the meantime it seems that I'm stuck (huh)\n Swerving and crashing, that dying little bastard\n Yung Christ, you address me as such (what)\n Crazy little demon, they wave when they see me\n Face tatted from ear to ear (yeah)\n Northside boy with a Glock-sized toy\n If I cock it, there's finna be tears here\n Manic depressive, when life is in session I hide in a room that's as dark as me\n Dollar sign-B and it's still F-T-P\n Fucking G-R-E-Y till I R-I-P\n\n"},{"id":38872278,"name":"That Just Isn't Empirically Possible","trackName":"That Just Isn't Empirically Possible","artistName":"$uicideboy$","albumName":"Stop Staring At the Shadows","duration":132.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"It's lonely at the top\nAll of my enemies have been defeated (RIP)\nThe crown has been sitting on my head for too long\nIt's starting to give me these lesions (yeah, yeah)\nDon't follow the crowd, the crowd is misleading (no)\nStay solo, surrounded by all of my demons (ay)\nLicking my wounds as they deepen (ay)\nConstantly feeding them all of my secrets\n007, I got the golden gun, I got the golden gun\nI'm busting, open up the door (secrets)\nI'm at my breaking point, I cannot take this shit no more\nI'm ready to fucking explode\nOpen up, knock knock\nHere comes the Glock cocked\n9 milli, pop pop pop, oh no\nMaking a mess, my aim ain't the best\nI guess I should clean this all up and go home\n♪\nPercocet, Roxycodone, with some Xanax that I had crushed up in some dust (huh)\nElevated to another dimension so I got a limp in my strut (fuck)\nI do not care to be here or be there\nIn the meantime it seems that I'm stuck (huh)\nSwerving and crashing, that dying little bastard\nYung Christ, you address me as such (what)\nCrazy little demon, they wave when they see me\nFace tatted from ear to ear (yeah)\nNorthside boy with a Glock-sized toy\nIf I cock it, there's finna be tears here\nManic depressive, when life is in session I hide in a room that's as dark as me\nDollar sign-B and it's still F-T-P\nFucking G-R-E-Y till I R-I-P\n\n","syncedLyrics":"[00:31.01]It's lonely at the top\n[00:32.41]All of my enemies have been defeated (RIP)\n[00:34.69]The crown has been sitting on my head for too long\n[00:36.40]It's starting to give me these lesions (yeah, yeah)\n[00:38.25]Don't follow the crowd, the crowd is misleading (no)\n[00:40.16]Stay solo, surrounded by all of my demons (ay)\n[00:42.85]Licking my wounds as they deepen (ay)\n[00:44.15]Constantly feeding them all of my secrets\n[00:46.38]007, I got the golden gun, I got the golden gun\n[00:49.02]I'm busting, open up the door (secrets)\n[00:50.62]I'm at my breaking point, I cannot take this shit no more\n[00:52.83]I'm ready to fucking explode\n[00:54.58]Open up, knock knock\n[00:55.53]Here comes the Glock cocked\n[00:56.60]9 milli, pop pop pop, oh no\n[00:58.42]Making a mess, my aim ain't the best\n[01:00.23]I guess I should clean this all up and go home\n[01:03.41]♪\n[01:17.18]Percocet, Roxycodone, with some Xanax that I had crushed up in some dust (huh)\n[01:21.27]Elevated to another dimension so I got a limp in my strut (fuck)\n[01:25.05]I do not care to be here or be there\n[01:26.59]In the meantime it seems that I'm stuck (huh)\n[01:28.83]Swerving and crashing, that dying little bastard\n[01:30.67]Yung Christ, you address me as such (what)\n[01:32.76]Crazy little demon, they wave when they see me\n[01:34.55]Face tatted from ear to ear (yeah)\n[01:36.53]Northside boy with a Glock-sized toy\n[01:38.35]If I cock it, there's finna be tears here\n[01:40.44]Manic depressive, when life is in session I hide in a room that's as dark as me\n[01:44.20]Dollar sign-B and it's still F-T-P\n[01:46.06]Fucking G-R-E-Y till I R-I-P\n[01:47.85]","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: That Just Isn't Empirically Possible\n artist: $uicideboy$\n album: Stop Staring At the Shadows\n duration_ms: 132000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: It's lonely at the top\n start_ms: 31010\n end_ms: 32410\n- text: All of my enemies have been defeated (RIP)\n start_ms: 32410\n end_ms: 34690\n- text: The crown has been sitting on my head for too long\n start_ms: 34690\n end_ms: 36400\n- text: It's starting to give me these lesions (yeah, yeah)\n start_ms: 36400\n end_ms: 38250\n- text: Don't follow the crowd, the crowd is misleading (no)\n start_ms: 38250\n end_ms: 40160\n- text: Stay solo, surrounded by all of my demons (ay)\n start_ms: 40160\n end_ms: 42850\n- text: Licking my wounds as they deepen (ay)\n start_ms: 42850\n end_ms: 44150\n- text: Constantly feeding them all of my secrets\n start_ms: 44150\n end_ms: 46380\n- text: 007, I got the golden gun, I got the golden gun\n start_ms: 46380\n end_ms: 49020\n- text: I'm busting, open up the door (secrets)\n start_ms: 49020\n end_ms: 50620\n- text: I'm at my breaking point, I cannot take this shit no more\n start_ms: 50620\n end_ms: 52830\n- text: I'm ready to fucking explode\n start_ms: 52830\n end_ms: 54580\n- text: Open up, knock knock\n start_ms: 54580\n end_ms: 55530\n- text: Here comes the Glock cocked\n start_ms: 55530\n end_ms: 56600\n- text: 9 milli, pop pop pop, oh no\n start_ms: 56600\n end_ms: 58420\n- text: Making a mess, my aim ain't the best\n start_ms: 58420\n end_ms: 60230\n- text: I guess I should clean this all up and go home\n start_ms: 60230\n end_ms: 63410\n- text: ♪\n start_ms: 63410\n end_ms: 77180\n- text: Percocet, Roxycodone, with some Xanax that I had crushed up in some dust (huh)\n start_ms: 77180\n end_ms: 81270\n- text: Elevated to another dimension so I got a limp in my strut (fuck)\n start_ms: 81270\n end_ms: 85050\n- text: I do not care to be here or be there\n start_ms: 85050\n end_ms: 86590\n- text: In the meantime it seems that I'm stuck (huh)\n start_ms: 86590\n end_ms: 88830\n- text: Swerving and crashing, that dying little bastard\n start_ms: 88830\n end_ms: 90670\n- text: Yung Christ, you address me as such (what)\n start_ms: 90670\n end_ms: 92760\n- text: Crazy little demon, they wave when they see me\n start_ms: 92760\n end_ms: 94550\n- text: Face tatted from ear to ear (yeah)\n start_ms: 94550\n end_ms: 96530\n- text: Northside boy with a Glock-sized toy\n start_ms: 96530\n end_ms: 98350\n- text: If I cock it, there's finna be tears here\n start_ms: 98350\n end_ms: 100440\n- text: Manic depressive, when life is in session I hide in a room that's as dark as me\n start_ms: 100440\n end_ms: 104200\n- text: Dollar sign-B and it's still F-T-P\n start_ms: 104200\n end_ms: 106060\n- text: Fucking G-R-E-Y till I R-I-P\n start_ms: 106060\n end_ms: 107850\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 107850\nplain: |+\n It's lonely at the top\n All of my enemies have been defeated (RIP)\n The crown has been sitting on my head for too long\n It's starting to give me these lesions (yeah, yeah)\n Don't follow the crowd, the crowd is misleading (no)\n Stay solo, surrounded by all of my demons (ay)\n Licking my wounds as they deepen (ay)\n Constantly feeding them all of my secrets\n 007, I got the golden gun, I got the golden gun\n I'm busting, open up the door (secrets)\n I'm at my breaking point, I cannot take this shit no more\n I'm ready to fucking explode\n Open up, knock knock\n Here comes the Glock cocked\n 9 milli, pop pop pop, oh no\n Making a mess, my aim ain't the best\n I guess I should clean this all up and go home\n ♪\n Percocet, Roxycodone, with some Xanax that I had crushed up in some dust (huh)\n Elevated to another dimension so I got a limp in my strut (fuck)\n I do not care to be here or be there\n In the meantime it seems that I'm stuck (huh)\n Swerving and crashing, that dying little bastard\n Yung Christ, you address me as such (what)\n Crazy little demon, they wave when they see me\n Face tatted from ear to ear (yeah)\n Northside boy with a Glock-sized toy\n If I cock it, there's finna be tears here\n Manic depressive, when life is in session I hide in a room that's as dark as me\n Dollar sign-B and it's still F-T-P\n Fucking G-R-E-Y till I R-I-P\n\n"},{"id":38887894,"name":"That Just Isn't Empirically Possible","trackName":"That Just Isn't Empirically Possible","artistName":"$uicideboy$","albumName":"Stop Staring At the Shadows","duration":121.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"It's lonely at the top\nAll of my enemies have been defeated (RIP)\nThe crown has been sitting on my head for too long\nIt's starting to give me these lesions (yeah, yeah)\nDon't follow the crowd, the crowd is misleading (no)\nStay solo, surrounded by all of my demons (ay)\nLicking my wounds as they deepen (ay)\nConstantly feeding them all of my secrets\n007, I got the golden gun, I got the golden gun\nI'm busting, open up the door (secrets)\nI'm at my breaking point, I cannot take this shit no more\nI'm ready to fucking explode\nOpen up, knock knock\nHere comes the Glock cocked\n9 milli, pop pop pop, oh no\nMaking a mess, my aim ain't the best\nI guess I should clean this all up and go home\n♪\nPercocet, Roxycodone, with some Xanax that I had crushed up in some dust (huh)\nElevated to another dimension so I got a limp in my strut (fuck)\nI do not care to be here or be there\nIn the meantime it seems that I'm stuck (huh)\nSwerving and crashing, that dying little bastard\nYung Christ, you address me as such (what)\nCrazy little demon, they wave when they see me\nFace tatted from ear to ear (yeah)\nNorthside boy with a Glock-sized toy\nIf I cock it, there's finna be tears here\nManic depressive, when life is in session I hide in a room that's as dark as me\nDollar sign-B and it's still F-T-P\nFucking G-R-E-Y till I R-I-P\n\n","syncedLyrics":"[00:31.01]It's lonely at the top\n[00:32.41]All of my enemies have been defeated (RIP)\n[00:34.69]The crown has been sitting on my head for too long\n[00:36.40]It's starting to give me these lesions (yeah, yeah)\n[00:38.25]Don't follow the crowd, the crowd is misleading (no)\n[00:40.16]Stay solo, surrounded by all of my demons (ay)\n[00:42.85]Licking my wounds as they deepen (ay)\n[00:44.15]Constantly feeding them all of my secrets\n[00:46.38]007, I got the golden gun, I got the golden gun\n[00:49.02]I'm busting, open up the door (secrets)\n[00:50.62]I'm at my breaking point, I cannot take this shit no more\n[00:52.83]I'm ready to fucking explode\n[00:54.58]Open up, knock knock\n[00:55.53]Here comes the Glock cocked\n[00:56.60]9 milli, pop pop pop, oh no\n[00:58.42]Making a mess, my aim ain't the best\n[01:00.23]I guess I should clean this all up and go home\n[01:03.41]♪\n[01:17.18]Percocet, Roxycodone, with some Xanax that I had crushed up in some dust (huh)\n[01:21.27]Elevated to another dimension so I got a limp in my strut (fuck)\n[01:25.05]I do not care to be here or be there\n[01:26.59]In the meantime it seems that I'm stuck (huh)\n[01:28.83]Swerving and crashing, that dying little bastard\n[01:30.67]Yung Christ, you address me as such (what)\n[01:32.76]Crazy little demon, they wave when they see me\n[01:34.55]Face tatted from ear to ear (yeah)\n[01:36.53]Northside boy with a Glock-sized toy\n[01:38.35]If I cock it, there's finna be tears here\n[01:40.44]Manic depressive, when life is in session I hide in a room that's as dark as me\n[01:44.20]Dollar sign-B and it's still F-T-P\n[01:46.06]Fucking G-R-E-Y till I R-I-P\n[01:47.85]","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: That Just Isn't Empirically Possible\n artist: $uicideboy$\n album: Stop Staring At the Shadows\n duration_ms: 121000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: It's lonely at the top\n start_ms: 31010\n end_ms: 32410\n- text: All of my enemies have been defeated (RIP)\n start_ms: 32410\n end_ms: 34690\n- text: The crown has been sitting on my head for too long\n start_ms: 34690\n end_ms: 36400\n- text: It's starting to give me these lesions (yeah, yeah)\n start_ms: 36400\n end_ms: 38250\n- text: Don't follow the crowd, the crowd is misleading (no)\n start_ms: 38250\n end_ms: 40160\n- text: Stay solo, surrounded by all of my demons (ay)\n start_ms: 40160\n end_ms: 42850\n- text: Licking my wounds as they deepen (ay)\n start_ms: 42850\n end_ms: 44150\n- text: Constantly feeding them all of my secrets\n start_ms: 44150\n end_ms: 46380\n- text: 007, I got the golden gun, I got the golden gun\n start_ms: 46380\n end_ms: 49020\n- text: I'm busting, open up the door (secrets)\n start_ms: 49020\n end_ms: 50620\n- text: I'm at my breaking point, I cannot take this shit no more\n start_ms: 50620\n end_ms: 52830\n- text: I'm ready to fucking explode\n start_ms: 52830\n end_ms: 54580\n- text: Open up, knock knock\n start_ms: 54580\n end_ms: 55530\n- text: Here comes the Glock cocked\n start_ms: 55530\n end_ms: 56600\n- text: 9 milli, pop pop pop, oh no\n start_ms: 56600\n end_ms: 58420\n- text: Making a mess, my aim ain't the best\n start_ms: 58420\n end_ms: 60230\n- text: I guess I should clean this all up and go home\n start_ms: 60230\n end_ms: 63410\n- text: ♪\n start_ms: 63410\n end_ms: 77180\n- text: Percocet, Roxycodone, with some Xanax that I had crushed up in some dust (huh)\n start_ms: 77180\n end_ms: 81270\n- text: Elevated to another dimension so I got a limp in my strut (fuck)\n start_ms: 81270\n end_ms: 85050\n- text: I do not care to be here or be there\n start_ms: 85050\n end_ms: 86590\n- text: In the meantime it seems that I'm stuck (huh)\n start_ms: 86590\n end_ms: 88830\n- text: Swerving and crashing, that dying little bastard\n start_ms: 88830\n end_ms: 90670\n- text: Yung Christ, you address me as such (what)\n start_ms: 90670\n end_ms: 92760\n- text: Crazy little demon, they wave when they see me\n start_ms: 92760\n end_ms: 94550\n- text: Face tatted from ear to ear (yeah)\n start_ms: 94550\n end_ms: 96530\n- text: Northside boy with a Glock-sized toy\n start_ms: 96530\n end_ms: 98350\n- text: If I cock it, there's finna be tears here\n start_ms: 98350\n end_ms: 100440\n- text: Manic depressive, when life is in session I hide in a room that's as dark as me\n start_ms: 100440\n end_ms: 104200\n- text: Dollar sign-B and it's still F-T-P\n start_ms: 104200\n end_ms: 106060\n- text: Fucking G-R-E-Y till I R-I-P\n start_ms: 106060\n end_ms: 107850\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 107850\nplain: |+\n It's lonely at the top\n All of my enemies have been defeated (RIP)\n The crown has been sitting on my head for too long\n It's starting to give me these lesions (yeah, yeah)\n Don't follow the crowd, the crowd is misleading (no)\n Stay solo, surrounded by all of my demons (ay)\n Licking my wounds as they deepen (ay)\n Constantly feeding them all of my secrets\n 007, I got the golden gun, I got the golden gun\n I'm busting, open up the door (secrets)\n I'm at my breaking point, I cannot take this shit no more\n I'm ready to fucking explode\n Open up, knock knock\n Here comes the Glock cocked\n 9 milli, pop pop pop, oh no\n Making a mess, my aim ain't the best\n I guess I should clean this all up and go home\n ♪\n Percocet, Roxycodone, with some Xanax that I had crushed up in some dust (huh)\n Elevated to another dimension so I got a limp in my strut (fuck)\n I do not care to be here or be there\n In the meantime it seems that I'm stuck (huh)\n Swerving and crashing, that dying little bastard\n Yung Christ, you address me as such (what)\n Crazy little demon, they wave when they see me\n Face tatted from ear to ear (yeah)\n Northside boy with a Glock-sized toy\n If I cock it, there's finna be tears here\n Manic depressive, when life is in session I hide in a room that's as dark as me\n Dollar sign-B and it's still F-T-P\n Fucking G-R-E-Y till I R-I-P\n\n"},{"id":37951970,"name":"That Just Isn't Empirically Possible","trackName":"That Just Isn't Empirically Possible","artistName":"$uicideboy$","albumName":"Stop Staring At the Shadows","duration":129.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"It's lonely at the top\nAll of my enemies have been defeated (RIP)\nThe crown has been sitting on my head for too long\nIt's starting to give me these lesions (yeah, yeah)\nDon't follow the crowd, the crowd is misleading (no)\nStay solo, surrounded by all of my demons (ay)\nLicking my wounds as they deepen (ay)\nConstantly feeding them all of my secrets\n007, I got the golden gun, I got the golden gun\nI'm busting, open up the door (secrets)\nI'm at my breaking point, I cannot take this shit no more\nI'm ready to fucking explode\nOpen up, knock knock\nHere comes the Glock cocked\n9 milli, pop pop pop, oh no\nMaking a mess, my aim ain't the best\nI guess I should clean this all up and go home\n♪\nPercocet, Roxycodone, with some Xanax that I had crushed up in some dust (huh)\nElevated to another dimension so I got a limp in my strut (fuck)\nI do not care to be here or be there\nIn the meantime it seems that I'm stuck (huh)\nSwerving and crashing, that dying little bastard\nYung Christ, you address me as such (what)\nCrazy little demon, they wave when they see me\nFace tatted from ear to ear (yeah)\nNorthside boy with a Glock-sized toy\nIf I cock it, there's finna be tears here\nManic depressive, when life is in session I hide in a room that's as dark as me\nDollar sign-B and it's still F-T-P\nFucking G-R-E-Y till I R-I-P\n\n","syncedLyrics":"[00:31.01]It's lonely at the top\n[00:32.41]All of my enemies have been defeated (RIP)\n[00:34.69]The crown has been sitting on my head for too long\n[00:36.40]It's starting to give me these lesions (yeah, yeah)\n[00:38.25]Don't follow the crowd, the crowd is misleading (no)\n[00:40.16]Stay solo, surrounded by all of my demons (ay)\n[00:42.85]Licking my wounds as they deepen (ay)\n[00:44.15]Constantly feeding them all of my secrets\n[00:46.38]007, I got the golden gun, I got the golden gun\n[00:49.02]I'm busting, open up the door (secrets)\n[00:50.62]I'm at my breaking point, I cannot take this shit no more\n[00:52.83]I'm ready to fucking explode\n[00:54.58]Open up, knock knock\n[00:55.53]Here comes the Glock cocked\n[00:56.60]9 milli, pop pop pop, oh no\n[00:58.42]Making a mess, my aim ain't the best\n[01:00.23]I guess I should clean this all up and go home\n[01:03.41]♪\n[01:17.18]Percocet, Roxycodone, with some Xanax that I had crushed up in some dust (huh)\n[01:21.27]Elevated to another dimension so I got a limp in my strut (fuck)\n[01:25.05]I do not care to be here or be there\n[01:26.59]In the meantime it seems that I'm stuck (huh)\n[01:28.83]Swerving and crashing, that dying little bastard\n[01:30.67]Yung Christ, you address me as such (what)\n[01:32.76]Crazy little demon, they wave when they see me\n[01:34.55]Face tatted from ear to ear (yeah)\n[01:36.53]Northside boy with a Glock-sized toy\n[01:38.35]If I cock it, there's finna be tears here\n[01:40.44]Manic depressive, when life is in session I hide in a room that's as dark as me\n[01:44.20]Dollar sign-B and it's still F-T-P\n[01:46.06]Fucking G-R-E-Y till I R-I-P\n[01:47.85]","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: That Just Isn't Empirically Possible\n artist: $uicideboy$\n album: Stop Staring At the Shadows\n duration_ms: 129000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: It's lonely at the top\n start_ms: 31010\n end_ms: 32410\n- text: All of my enemies have been defeated (RIP)\n start_ms: 32410\n end_ms: 34690\n- text: The crown has been sitting on my head for too long\n start_ms: 34690\n end_ms: 36400\n- text: It's starting to give me these lesions (yeah, yeah)\n start_ms: 36400\n end_ms: 38250\n- text: Don't follow the crowd, the crowd is misleading (no)\n start_ms: 38250\n end_ms: 40160\n- text: Stay solo, surrounded by all of my demons (ay)\n start_ms: 40160\n end_ms: 42850\n- text: Licking my wounds as they deepen (ay)\n start_ms: 42850\n end_ms: 44150\n- text: Constantly feeding them all of my secrets\n start_ms: 44150\n end_ms: 46380\n- text: 007, I got the golden gun, I got the golden gun\n start_ms: 46380\n end_ms: 49020\n- text: I'm busting, open up the door (secrets)\n start_ms: 49020\n end_ms: 50620\n- text: I'm at my breaking point, I cannot take this shit no more\n start_ms: 50620\n end_ms: 52830\n- text: I'm ready to fucking explode\n start_ms: 52830\n end_ms: 54580\n- text: Open up, knock knock\n start_ms: 54580\n end_ms: 55530\n- text: Here comes the Glock cocked\n start_ms: 55530\n end_ms: 56600\n- text: 9 milli, pop pop pop, oh no\n start_ms: 56600\n end_ms: 58420\n- text: Making a mess, my aim ain't the best\n start_ms: 58420\n end_ms: 60230\n- text: I guess I should clean this all up and go home\n start_ms: 60230\n end_ms: 63410\n- text: ♪\n start_ms: 63410\n end_ms: 77180\n- text: Percocet, Roxycodone, with some Xanax that I had crushed up in some dust (huh)\n start_ms: 77180\n end_ms: 81270\n- text: Elevated to another dimension so I got a limp in my strut (fuck)\n start_ms: 81270\n end_ms: 85050\n- text: I do not care to be here or be there\n start_ms: 85050\n end_ms: 86590\n- text: In the meantime it seems that I'm stuck (huh)\n start_ms: 86590\n end_ms: 88830\n- text: Swerving and crashing, that dying little bastard\n start_ms: 88830\n end_ms: 90670\n- text: Yung Christ, you address me as such (what)\n start_ms: 90670\n end_ms: 92760\n- text: Crazy little demon, they wave when they see me\n start_ms: 92760\n end_ms: 94550\n- text: Face tatted from ear to ear (yeah)\n start_ms: 94550\n end_ms: 96530\n- text: Northside boy with a Glock-sized toy\n start_ms: 96530\n end_ms: 98350\n- text: If I cock it, there's finna be tears here\n start_ms: 98350\n end_ms: 100440\n- text: Manic depressive, when life is in session I hide in a room that's as dark as me\n start_ms: 100440\n end_ms: 104200\n- text: Dollar sign-B and it's still F-T-P\n start_ms: 104200\n end_ms: 106060\n- text: Fucking G-R-E-Y till I R-I-P\n start_ms: 106060\n end_ms: 107850\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 107850\nplain: |+\n It's lonely at the top\n All of my enemies have been defeated (RIP)\n The crown has been sitting on my head for too long\n It's starting to give me these lesions (yeah, yeah)\n Don't follow the crowd, the crowd is misleading (no)\n Stay solo, surrounded by all of my demons (ay)\n Licking my wounds as they deepen (ay)\n Constantly feeding them all of my secrets\n 007, I got the golden gun, I got the golden gun\n I'm busting, open up the door (secrets)\n I'm at my breaking point, I cannot take this shit no more\n I'm ready to fucking explode\n Open up, knock knock\n Here comes the Glock cocked\n 9 milli, pop pop pop, oh no\n Making a mess, my aim ain't the best\n I guess I should clean this all up and go home\n ♪\n Percocet, Roxycodone, with some Xanax that I had crushed up in some dust (huh)\n Elevated to another dimension so I got a limp in my strut (fuck)\n I do not care to be here or be there\n In the meantime it seems that I'm stuck (huh)\n Swerving and crashing, that dying little bastard\n Yung Christ, you address me as such (what)\n Crazy little demon, they wave when they see me\n Face tatted from ear to ear (yeah)\n Northside boy with a Glock-sized toy\n If I cock it, there's finna be tears here\n Manic depressive, when life is in session I hide in a room that's as dark as me\n Dollar sign-B and it's still F-T-P\n Fucking G-R-E-Y till I R-I-P\n\n"},{"id":39571013,"name":"That Just Isn't Empirically Possible","trackName":"That Just Isn't Empirically Possible","artistName":"$uicideboy$","albumName":"Stop Staring at the Shadows","duration":3397.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"It's lonely at the top\nAll of my enemies have been defeated (RIP)\nThe crown has been sitting on my head for too long\nIt's starting to give me these lesions (yeah, yeah)\nDon't follow the crowd, the crowd is misleading (no)\nStay solo, surrounded by all of my demons (ay)\nLicking my wounds as they deepen (ay)\nConstantly feeding them all of my secrets\n007, I got the golden gun, I got the golden gun\nI'm busting, open up the door (secrets)\nI'm at my breaking point, I cannot take this shit no more\nI'm ready to fucking explode\nOpen up, knock knock\nHere comes the Glock cocked\n9 milli, pop pop pop, oh no\nMaking a mess, my aim ain't the best\nI guess I should clean this all up and go home\n♪\nPercocet, Roxycodone, with some Xanax that I had crushed up in some dust (huh)\nElevated to another dimension so I got a limp in my strut (fuck)\nI do not care to be here or be there\nIn the meantime it seems that I'm stuck (huh)\nSwerving and crashing, that dying little bastard\nYung Christ, you address me as such (what)\nCrazy little demon, they wave when they see me\nFace tatted from ear to ear (yeah)\nNorthside boy with a Glock-sized toy\nIf I cock it, there's finna be tears here\nManic depressive, when life is in session I hide in a room that's as dark as me\nDollar sign-B and it's still F-T-P\nFucking G-R-E-Y till I R-I-P\n\n","syncedLyrics":"[00:31.01]It's lonely at the top\n[00:32.41]All of my enemies have been defeated (RIP)\n[00:34.69]The crown has been sitting on my head for too long\n[00:36.40]It's starting to give me these lesions (yeah, yeah)\n[00:38.25]Don't follow the crowd, the crowd is misleading (no)\n[00:40.16]Stay solo, surrounded by all of my demons (ay)\n[00:42.85]Licking my wounds as they deepen (ay)\n[00:44.15]Constantly feeding them all of my secrets\n[00:46.38]007, I got the golden gun, I got the golden gun\n[00:49.02]I'm busting, open up the door (secrets)\n[00:50.62]I'm at my breaking point, I cannot take this shit no more\n[00:52.83]I'm ready to fucking explode\n[00:54.58]Open up, knock knock\n[00:55.53]Here comes the Glock cocked\n[00:56.60]9 milli, pop pop pop, oh no\n[00:58.42]Making a mess, my aim ain't the best\n[01:00.23]I guess I should clean this all up and go home\n[01:03.41]♪\n[01:17.18]Percocet, Roxycodone, with some Xanax that I had crushed up in some dust (huh)\n[01:21.27]Elevated to another dimension so I got a limp in my strut (fuck)\n[01:25.05]I do not care to be here or be there\n[01:26.59]In the meantime it seems that I'm stuck (huh)\n[01:28.83]Swerving and crashing, that dying little bastard\n[01:30.67]Yung Christ, you address me as such (what)\n[01:32.76]Crazy little demon, they wave when they see me\n[01:34.55]Face tatted from ear to ear (yeah)\n[01:36.53]Northside boy with a Glock-sized toy\n[01:38.35]If I cock it, there's finna be tears here\n[01:40.44]Manic depressive, when life is in session I hide in a room that's as dark as me\n[01:44.20]Dollar sign-B and it's still F-T-P\n[01:46.06]Fucking G-R-E-Y till I R-I-P\n[01:47.85]","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: That Just Isn't Empirically Possible\n artist: $uicideboy$\n album: Stop Staring at the Shadows\n duration_ms: 3397000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: It's lonely at the top\n start_ms: 31010\n end_ms: 32410\n- text: All of my enemies have been defeated (RIP)\n start_ms: 32410\n end_ms: 34690\n- text: The crown has been sitting on my head for too long\n start_ms: 34690\n end_ms: 36400\n- text: It's starting to give me these lesions (yeah, yeah)\n start_ms: 36400\n end_ms: 38250\n- text: Don't follow the crowd, the crowd is misleading (no)\n start_ms: 38250\n end_ms: 40160\n- text: Stay solo, surrounded by all of my demons (ay)\n start_ms: 40160\n end_ms: 42850\n- text: Licking my wounds as they deepen (ay)\n start_ms: 42850\n end_ms: 44150\n- text: Constantly feeding them all of my secrets\n start_ms: 44150\n end_ms: 46380\n- text: 007, I got the golden gun, I got the golden gun\n start_ms: 46380\n end_ms: 49020\n- text: I'm busting, open up the door (secrets)\n start_ms: 49020\n end_ms: 50620\n- text: I'm at my breaking point, I cannot take this shit no more\n start_ms: 50620\n end_ms: 52830\n- text: I'm ready to fucking explode\n start_ms: 52830\n end_ms: 54580\n- text: Open up, knock knock\n start_ms: 54580\n end_ms: 55530\n- text: Here comes the Glock cocked\n start_ms: 55530\n end_ms: 56600\n- text: 9 milli, pop pop pop, oh no\n start_ms: 56600\n end_ms: 58420\n- text: Making a mess, my aim ain't the best\n start_ms: 58420\n end_ms: 60230\n- text: I guess I should clean this all up and go home\n start_ms: 60230\n end_ms: 63410\n- text: ♪\n start_ms: 63410\n end_ms: 77180\n- text: Percocet, Roxycodone, with some Xanax that I had crushed up in some dust (huh)\n start_ms: 77180\n end_ms: 81270\n- text: Elevated to another dimension so I got a limp in my strut (fuck)\n start_ms: 81270\n end_ms: 85050\n- text: I do not care to be here or be there\n start_ms: 85050\n end_ms: 86590\n- text: In the meantime it seems that I'm stuck (huh)\n start_ms: 86590\n end_ms: 88830\n- text: Swerving and crashing, that dying little bastard\n start_ms: 88830\n end_ms: 90670\n- text: Yung Christ, you address me as such (what)\n start_ms: 90670\n end_ms: 92760\n- text: Crazy little demon, they wave when they see me\n start_ms: 92760\n end_ms: 94550\n- text: Face tatted from ear to ear (yeah)\n start_ms: 94550\n end_ms: 96530\n- text: Northside boy with a Glock-sized toy\n start_ms: 96530\n end_ms: 98350\n- text: If I cock it, there's finna be tears here\n start_ms: 98350\n end_ms: 100440\n- text: Manic depressive, when life is in session I hide in a room that's as dark as me\n start_ms: 100440\n end_ms: 104200\n- text: Dollar sign-B and it's still F-T-P\n start_ms: 104200\n end_ms: 106060\n- text: Fucking G-R-E-Y till I R-I-P\n start_ms: 106060\n end_ms: 107850\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 107850\nplain: |+\n It's lonely at the top\n All of my enemies have been defeated (RIP)\n The crown has been sitting on my head for too long\n It's starting to give me these lesions (yeah, yeah)\n Don't follow the crowd, the crowd is misleading (no)\n Stay solo, surrounded by all of my demons (ay)\n Licking my wounds as they deepen (ay)\n Constantly feeding them all of my secrets\n 007, I got the golden gun, I got the golden gun\n I'm busting, open up the door (secrets)\n I'm at my breaking point, I cannot take this shit no more\n I'm ready to fucking explode\n Open up, knock knock\n Here comes the Glock cocked\n 9 milli, pop pop pop, oh no\n Making a mess, my aim ain't the best\n I guess I should clean this all up and go home\n ♪\n Percocet, Roxycodone, with some Xanax that I had crushed up in some dust (huh)\n Elevated to another dimension so I got a limp in my strut (fuck)\n I do not care to be here or be there\n In the meantime it seems that I'm stuck (huh)\n Swerving and crashing, that dying little bastard\n Yung Christ, you address me as such (what)\n Crazy little demon, they wave when they see me\n Face tatted from ear to ear (yeah)\n Northside boy with a Glock-sized toy\n If I cock it, there's finna be tears here\n Manic depressive, when life is in session I hide in a room that's as dark as me\n Dollar sign-B and it's still F-T-P\n Fucking G-R-E-Y till I R-I-P\n\n"},{"id":38727741,"name":"That Just Isn't Empirically Possible","trackName":"That Just Isn't Empirically Possible","artistName":"$uicideboy$","albumName":"Unknown Album","duration":124.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"It's lonely at the top\nAll of my enemies have been defeated (RIP)\nThe crown has been sitting on my head for too long\nIt's starting to give me these lesions (yeah, yeah)\nDon't follow the crowd, the crowd is misleading (no)\nStay solo, surrounded by all of my demons (ay)\nLicking my wounds as they deepen (ay)\nConstantly feeding them all of my secrets\n007, I got the golden gun, I got the golden gun\nI'm busting, open up the door (secrets)\nI'm at my breaking point, I cannot take this shit no more\nI'm ready to fucking explode\nOpen up, knock knock\nHere comes the Glock cocked\n9 milli, pop pop pop, oh no\nMaking a mess, my aim ain't the best\nI guess I should clean this all up and go home\n♪\nPercocet, Roxycodone, with some Xanax that I had crushed up in some dust (huh)\nElevated to another dimension so I got a limp in my strut (fuck)\nI do not care to be here or be there\nIn the meantime it seems that I'm stuck (huh)\nSwerving and crashing, that dying little bastard\nYung Christ, you address me as such (what)\nCrazy little demon, they wave when they see me\nFace tatted from ear to ear (yeah)\nNorthside boy with a Glock-sized toy\nIf I cock it, there's finna be tears here\nManic depressive, when life is in session I hide in a room that's as dark as me\nDollar sign-B and it's still F-T-P\nFucking G-R-E-Y till I R-I-P\n\n","syncedLyrics":"[00:31.01]It's lonely at the top\n[00:32.41]All of my enemies have been defeated (RIP)\n[00:34.69]The crown has been sitting on my head for too long\n[00:36.40]It's starting to give me these lesions (yeah, yeah)\n[00:38.25]Don't follow the crowd, the crowd is misleading (no)\n[00:40.16]Stay solo, surrounded by all of my demons (ay)\n[00:42.85]Licking my wounds as they deepen (ay)\n[00:44.15]Constantly feeding them all of my secrets\n[00:46.38]007, I got the golden gun, I got the golden gun\n[00:49.02]I'm busting, open up the door (secrets)\n[00:50.62]I'm at my breaking point, I cannot take this shit no more\n[00:52.83]I'm ready to fucking explode\n[00:54.58]Open up, knock knock\n[00:55.53]Here comes the Glock cocked\n[00:56.60]9 milli, pop pop pop, oh no\n[00:58.42]Making a mess, my aim ain't the best\n[01:00.23]I guess I should clean this all up and go home\n[01:03.41]♪\n[01:17.18]Percocet, Roxycodone, with some Xanax that I had crushed up in some dust (huh)\n[01:21.27]Elevated to another dimension so I got a limp in my strut (fuck)\n[01:25.05]I do not care to be here or be there\n[01:26.59]In the meantime it seems that I'm stuck (huh)\n[01:28.83]Swerving and crashing, that dying little bastard\n[01:30.67]Yung Christ, you address me as such (what)\n[01:32.76]Crazy little demon, they wave when they see me\n[01:34.55]Face tatted from ear to ear (yeah)\n[01:36.53]Northside boy with a Glock-sized toy\n[01:38.35]If I cock it, there's finna be tears here\n[01:40.44]Manic depressive, when life is in session I hide in a room that's as dark as me\n[01:44.20]Dollar sign-B and it's still F-T-P\n[01:46.06]Fucking G-R-E-Y till I R-I-P\n[01:47.85]","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: That Just Isn't Empirically Possible\n artist: $uicideboy$\n album: Unknown Album\n duration_ms: 124000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: It's lonely at the top\n start_ms: 31010\n end_ms: 32410\n- text: All of my enemies have been defeated (RIP)\n start_ms: 32410\n end_ms: 34690\n- text: The crown has been sitting on my head for too long\n start_ms: 34690\n end_ms: 36400\n- text: It's starting to give me these lesions (yeah, yeah)\n start_ms: 36400\n end_ms: 38250\n- text: Don't follow the crowd, the crowd is misleading (no)\n start_ms: 38250\n end_ms: 40160\n- text: Stay solo, surrounded by all of my demons (ay)\n start_ms: 40160\n end_ms: 42850\n- text: Licking my wounds as they deepen (ay)\n start_ms: 42850\n end_ms: 44150\n- text: Constantly feeding them all of my secrets\n start_ms: 44150\n end_ms: 46380\n- text: 007, I got the golden gun, I got the golden gun\n start_ms: 46380\n end_ms: 49020\n- text: I'm busting, open up the door (secrets)\n start_ms: 49020\n end_ms: 50620\n- text: I'm at my breaking point, I cannot take this shit no more\n start_ms: 50620\n end_ms: 52830\n- text: I'm ready to fucking explode\n start_ms: 52830\n end_ms: 54580\n- text: Open up, knock knock\n start_ms: 54580\n end_ms: 55530\n- text: Here comes the Glock cocked\n start_ms: 55530\n end_ms: 56600\n- text: 9 milli, pop pop pop, oh no\n start_ms: 56600\n end_ms: 58420\n- text: Making a mess, my aim ain't the best\n start_ms: 58420\n end_ms: 60230\n- text: I guess I should clean this all up and go home\n start_ms: 60230\n end_ms: 63410\n- text: ♪\n start_ms: 63410\n end_ms: 77180\n- text: Percocet, Roxycodone, with some Xanax that I had crushed up in some dust (huh)\n start_ms: 77180\n end_ms: 81270\n- text: Elevated to another dimension so I got a limp in my strut (fuck)\n start_ms: 81270\n end_ms: 85050\n- text: I do not care to be here or be there\n start_ms: 85050\n end_ms: 86590\n- text: In the meantime it seems that I'm stuck (huh)\n start_ms: 86590\n end_ms: 88830\n- text: Swerving and crashing, that dying little bastard\n start_ms: 88830\n end_ms: 90670\n- text: Yung Christ, you address me as such (what)\n start_ms: 90670\n end_ms: 92760\n- text: Crazy little demon, they wave when they see me\n start_ms: 92760\n end_ms: 94550\n- text: Face tatted from ear to ear (yeah)\n start_ms: 94550\n end_ms: 96530\n- text: Northside boy with a Glock-sized toy\n start_ms: 96530\n end_ms: 98350\n- text: If I cock it, there's finna be tears here\n start_ms: 98350\n end_ms: 100440\n- text: Manic depressive, when life is in session I hide in a room that's as dark as me\n start_ms: 100440\n end_ms: 104200\n- text: Dollar sign-B and it's still F-T-P\n start_ms: 104200\n end_ms: 106060\n- text: Fucking G-R-E-Y till I R-I-P\n start_ms: 106060\n end_ms: 107850\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 107850\nplain: |+\n It's lonely at the top\n All of my enemies have been defeated (RIP)\n The crown has been sitting on my head for too long\n It's starting to give me these lesions (yeah, yeah)\n Don't follow the crowd, the crowd is misleading (no)\n Stay solo, surrounded by all of my demons (ay)\n Licking my wounds as they deepen (ay)\n Constantly feeding them all of my secrets\n 007, I got the golden gun, I got the golden gun\n I'm busting, open up the door (secrets)\n I'm at my breaking point, I cannot take this shit no more\n I'm ready to fucking explode\n Open up, knock knock\n Here comes the Glock cocked\n 9 milli, pop pop pop, oh no\n Making a mess, my aim ain't the best\n I guess I should clean this all up and go home\n ♪\n Percocet, Roxycodone, with some Xanax that I had crushed up in some dust (huh)\n Elevated to another dimension so I got a limp in my strut (fuck)\n I do not care to be here or be there\n In the meantime it seems that I'm stuck (huh)\n Swerving and crashing, that dying little bastard\n Yung Christ, you address me as such (what)\n Crazy little demon, they wave when they see me\n Face tatted from ear to ear (yeah)\n Northside boy with a Glock-sized toy\n If I cock it, there's finna be tears here\n Manic depressive, when life is in session I hide in a room that's as dark as me\n Dollar sign-B and it's still F-T-P\n Fucking G-R-E-Y till I R-I-P\n\n"},{"id":21890192,"name":"That Just Isn't Empirically Possible (Paused)","trackName":"That Just Isn't Empirically Possible (Paused)","artistName":"$uicideboy$","albumName":"Stop Staring At the Shadows","duration":123.902,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\nSmoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\nLet ya brain soak\nFresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\nSmoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\nSmoke scattered out, smoke scattered out\nFresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\nSmoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\nLet ya brain soak\nFresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\nSmoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\nSmoke scattered out, smoke scattered out\n\nIt's lonely at the top\nAll of my enemies have been defeated (RIP)\nThe crown has been sitting on my head for too long\nIt's starting to give me these lesions (yeah, yeah)\nDon't follow the crowd, the crowd is misleading (no)\nStay solo, surrounded by all of my demons (ay)\nLicking my wounds as they deepen (ay)\nConstantly feeding them all of my secrets\n\n007, I got the golden gun, I got the golden gun\nI'm busting, open up the door (secrets)\nI'm at my breaking point, I cannot take this shit no more\nI'm ready to fucking explode\nOpen up, knock knock\nHere comes the Glock cocked\n9 milli, pop pop pop, oh no\nMaking a mess, my aim ain't the best\nI guess I should clean this all up and go home\n\nPercocet, Roxycodone, with some Xanax\nThat I had crushed up in some dust (huh)\nElevated to another dimension so I got a limp in my strut (fuck)\nI do not care to be here or be there\nIn the meantime it seems that I'm stuck (huh)\nSwerving and crashing, that dying little bastard\nYung Christ, you address me as such (what)\n\nCrazy little demon, they wave when they see me\nFace tatted from ear to ear (yeah)\nNorthside boy with a Glock-sized toy\nIf I cock it, there's finna be tears here\nManic depressive, when life is in session\nI hide in a room that's as dark as me\nDollar sign-B and it's still F-T-P\nFucking G-R-E-Y till I R-I-P\n\nSmoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\nLet ya brain soak\nSmoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\nSmoke scattered out, smoke scattered out","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.01] Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n[00:03.48] Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\n[00:05.85] Let ya brain soak\n[00:07.31] Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n[00:11.13] Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\n[00:13.11] Smoke scattered out, smoke scattered out\n[00:15.17] Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n[00:19.09] Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\n[00:21.49] Let ya brain soak\n[00:22.79] Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n[00:26.72] Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\n[00:28.73] Smoke scattered out, smoke scattered out\n[00:30.38] It's lonely at the top\n[00:31.95] All of my enemies have been defeated (RIP)\n[00:34.24] The crown has been sitting on my head for too long\n[00:36.20] It's starting to give me these lesions (yeah, yeah)\n[00:38.19] Don't follow the crowd, the crowd is misleading (no)\n[00:40.12] Stay solo, surrounded by all of my demons (ay)\n[00:42.68] Licking my wounds as they deepen (ay)\n[00:44.05] Constantly feeding them all of my secrets\n[00:46.12] 007, I got the golden gun, I got the golden gun\n[00:48.81] I'm busting, open up the door (secrets)\n[00:50.32] I'm at my breaking point, I cannot take this shit no more\n[00:52.69] I'm ready to fucking explode\n[00:54.27] Open up, knock knock\n[00:55.25] Here comes the Glock cocked\n[00:56.14] 9 milli, pop pop pop, oh no\n[00:58.11] Making a mess, my aim ain't the best\n[00:59.95] I guess I should clean this all up and go home\n[01:16.80] Percocet, Roxycodone, with some Xanax\n[01:18.88] That I had crushed up in some dust (huh)\n[01:20.86] Elevated to another dimension so I got a limp in my strut (fuck)\n[01:24.78] I do not care to be here or be there\n[01:26.34] In the meantime it seems that I'm stuck (huh)\n[01:28.58] Swerving and crashing, that dying little bastard\n[01:30.32] Yung Christ, you address me as such (what)\n[01:32.45] Crazy little demon, they wave when they see me\n[01:34.26] Face tatted from ear to ear (yeah)\n[01:36.31] Northside boy with a Glock-sized toy\n[01:38.05] If I cock it, there's finna be tears here\n[01:40.25] Manic depressive, when life is in session\n[01:42.03] I hide in a room that's as dark as me\n[01:44.08] Dollar sign-B and it's still F-T-P\n[01:45.74] Fucking G-R-E-Y till I R-I-P\n[01:51.89] Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\n[01:54.22] Let ya brain soak\n[01:59.54] Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\n[02:01.58] Smoke scattered out, smoke scattered out\n[02:02.95] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: That Just Isn't Empirically Possible (Paused)\n artist: $uicideboy$\n album: Stop Staring At the Shadows\n duration_ms: 123902\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n start_ms: 10\n end_ms: 3480\n- text: Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\n start_ms: 3480\n end_ms: 5850\n- text: Let ya brain soak\n start_ms: 5850\n end_ms: 7310\n- text: Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n start_ms: 7310\n end_ms: 11130\n- text: Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\n start_ms: 11130\n end_ms: 13110\n- text: Smoke scattered out, smoke scattered out\n start_ms: 13110\n end_ms: 15170\n- text: Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n start_ms: 15170\n end_ms: 19090\n- text: Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\n start_ms: 19090\n end_ms: 21490\n- text: Let ya brain soak\n start_ms: 21490\n end_ms: 22790\n- text: Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n start_ms: 22790\n end_ms: 26720\n- text: Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\n start_ms: 26720\n end_ms: 28730\n- text: Smoke scattered out, smoke scattered out\n start_ms: 28730\n end_ms: 30380\n- text: It's lonely at the top\n start_ms: 30380\n end_ms: 31950\n- text: All of my enemies have been defeated (RIP)\n start_ms: 31950\n end_ms: 34240\n- text: The crown has been sitting on my head for too long\n start_ms: 34240\n end_ms: 36200\n- text: It's starting to give me these lesions (yeah, yeah)\n start_ms: 36200\n end_ms: 38190\n- text: Don't follow the crowd, the crowd is misleading (no)\n start_ms: 38190\n end_ms: 40120\n- text: Stay solo, surrounded by all of my demons (ay)\n start_ms: 40120\n end_ms: 42680\n- text: Licking my wounds as they deepen (ay)\n start_ms: 42680\n end_ms: 44050\n- text: Constantly feeding them all of my secrets\n start_ms: 44050\n end_ms: 46120\n- text: 007, I got the golden gun, I got the golden gun\n start_ms: 46120\n end_ms: 48810\n- text: I'm busting, open up the door (secrets)\n start_ms: 48810\n end_ms: 50320\n- text: I'm at my breaking point, I cannot take this shit no more\n start_ms: 50320\n end_ms: 52690\n- text: I'm ready to fucking explode\n start_ms: 52690\n end_ms: 54270\n- text: Open up, knock knock\n start_ms: 54270\n end_ms: 55250\n- text: Here comes the Glock cocked\n start_ms: 55250\n end_ms: 56140\n- text: 9 milli, pop pop pop, oh no\n start_ms: 56140\n end_ms: 58110\n- text: Making a mess, my aim ain't the best\n start_ms: 58110\n end_ms: 59950\n- text: I guess I should clean this all up and go home\n start_ms: 59950\n end_ms: 76800\n- text: Percocet, Roxycodone, with some Xanax\n start_ms: 76800\n end_ms: 78880\n- text: That I had crushed up in some dust (huh)\n start_ms: 78880\n end_ms: 80860\n- text: Elevated to another dimension so I got a limp in my strut (fuck)\n start_ms: 80860\n end_ms: 84780\n- text: I do not care to be here or be there\n start_ms: 84780\n end_ms: 86340\n- text: In the meantime it seems that I'm stuck (huh)\n start_ms: 86340\n end_ms: 88580\n- text: Swerving and crashing, that dying little bastard\n start_ms: 88580\n end_ms: 90320\n- text: Yung Christ, you address me as such (what)\n start_ms: 90320\n end_ms: 92450\n- text: Crazy little demon, they wave when they see me\n start_ms: 92450\n end_ms: 94260\n- text: Face tatted from ear to ear (yeah)\n start_ms: 94260\n end_ms: 96310\n- text: Northside boy with a Glock-sized toy\n start_ms: 96310\n end_ms: 98050\n- text: If I cock it, there's finna be tears here\n start_ms: 98050\n end_ms: 100250\n- text: Manic depressive, when life is in session\n start_ms: 100250\n end_ms: 102030\n- text: I hide in a room that's as dark as me\n start_ms: 102030\n end_ms: 104080\n- text: Dollar sign-B and it's still F-T-P\n start_ms: 104080\n end_ms: 105740\n- text: Fucking G-R-E-Y till I R-I-P\n start_ms: 105740\n end_ms: 111890\n- text: Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\n start_ms: 111890\n end_ms: 114220\n- text: Let ya brain soak\n start_ms: 114220\n end_ms: 119540\n- text: Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\n start_ms: 119540\n end_ms: 121580\n- text: Smoke scattered out, smoke scattered out\n start_ms: 121580\n end_ms: 122950\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 122950\nplain: |-\n Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\n Let ya brain soak\n Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\n Smoke scattered out, smoke scattered out\n Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\n Let ya brain soak\n Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\n Smoke scattered out, smoke scattered out\n\n It's lonely at the top\n All of my enemies have been defeated (RIP)\n The crown has been sitting on my head for too long\n It's starting to give me these lesions (yeah, yeah)\n Don't follow the crowd, the crowd is misleading (no)\n Stay solo, surrounded by all of my demons (ay)\n Licking my wounds as they deepen (ay)\n Constantly feeding them all of my secrets\n\n 007, I got the golden gun, I got the golden gun\n I'm busting, open up the door (secrets)\n I'm at my breaking point, I cannot take this shit no more\n I'm ready to fucking explode\n Open up, knock knock\n Here comes the Glock cocked\n 9 milli, pop pop pop, oh no\n Making a mess, my aim ain't the best\n I guess I should clean this all up and go home\n\n Percocet, Roxycodone, with some Xanax\n That I had crushed up in some dust (huh)\n Elevated to another dimension so I got a limp in my strut (fuck)\n I do not care to be here or be there\n In the meantime it seems that I'm stuck (huh)\n Swerving and crashing, that dying little bastard\n Yung Christ, you address me as such (what)\n\n Crazy little demon, they wave when they see me\n Face tatted from ear to ear (yeah)\n Northside boy with a Glock-sized toy\n If I cock it, there's finna be tears here\n Manic depressive, when life is in session\n I hide in a room that's as dark as me\n Dollar sign-B and it's still F-T-P\n Fucking G-R-E-Y till I R-I-P\n\n Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\n Let ya brain soak\n Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\n Smoke scattered out, smoke scattered out\n"},{"id":26605812,"name":"That Just Isn't Empirically Possible [Explicit]","trackName":"That Just Isn't Empirically Possible [Explicit]","artistName":"$uicideboy$","albumName":"Stop Staring At the Shadows [Explicit]","duration":123.95102,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\nSmoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\nLet ya brain soak\nFresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\nSmoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\nSmoke scattered out, smoke scattered out\nFresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\nSmoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\nLet ya brain soak\nFresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\nSmoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\nSmoke scattered out, smoke scattered out\n\nIt's lonely at the top\nAll of my enemies have been defeated (RIP)\nThe crown has been sitting on my head for too long\nIt's starting to give me these lesions (yeah, yeah)\nDon't follow the crowd, the crowd is misleading (no)\nStay solo, surrounded by all of my demons (ay)\nLicking my wounds as they deepen (ay)\nConstantly feeding them all of my secrets\n\n007, I got the golden gun, I got the golden gun\nI'm busting, open up the door (secrets)\nI'm at my breaking point, I cannot take this shit no more\nI'm ready to fucking explode\nOpen up, knock knock\nHere comes the Glock cocked\n9 milli, pop pop pop, oh no\nMaking a mess, my aim ain't the best\nI guess I should clean this all up and go home\n\nPercocet, Roxycodone, with some Xanax\nThat I had crushed up in some dust (huh)\nElevated to another dimension so I got a limp in my strut (fuck)\nI do not care to be here or be there\nIn the meantime it seems that I'm stuck (huh)\nSwerving and crashing, that dying little bastard\nYung Christ, you address me as such (what)\n\nCrazy little demon, they wave when they see me\nFace tatted from ear to ear (yeah)\nNorthside boy with a Glock-sized toy\nIf I cock it, there's finna be tears here\nManic depressive, when life is in session\nI hide in a room that's as dark as me\nDollar sign-B and it's still F-T-P\nFucking G-R-E-Y till I R-I-P\n\nSmoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\nLet ya brain soak\nSmoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\nSmoke scattered out, smoke scattered out","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.01] Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n[00:03.48] Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\n[00:05.85] Let ya brain soak\n[00:07.31] Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n[00:11.13] Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\n[00:13.11] Smoke scattered out, smoke scattered out\n[00:15.17] Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n[00:19.09] Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\n[00:21.49] Let ya brain soak\n[00:22.79] Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n[00:26.72] Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\n[00:28.73] Smoke scattered out, smoke scattered out\n[00:30.38] It's lonely at the top\n[00:31.95] All of my enemies have been defeated (RIP)\n[00:34.24] The crown has been sitting on my head for too long\n[00:36.20] It's starting to give me these lesions (yeah, yeah)\n[00:38.19] Don't follow the crowd, the crowd is misleading (no)\n[00:40.12] Stay solo, surrounded by all of my demons (ay)\n[00:42.68] Licking my wounds as they deepen (ay)\n[00:44.05] Constantly feeding them all of my secrets\n[00:46.12] 007, I got the golden gun, I got the golden gun\n[00:48.81] I'm busting, open up the door (secrets)\n[00:50.32] I'm at my breaking point, I cannot take this shit no more\n[00:52.69] I'm ready to fucking explode\n[00:54.27] Open up, knock knock\n[00:55.25] Here comes the Glock cocked\n[00:56.14] 9 milli, pop pop pop, oh no\n[00:58.11] Making a mess, my aim ain't the best\n[00:59.95] I guess I should clean this all up and go home\n[01:16.80] Percocet, Roxycodone, with some Xanax\n[01:18.88] That I had crushed up in some dust (huh)\n[01:20.86] Elevated to another dimension so I got a limp in my strut (fuck)\n[01:24.78] I do not care to be here or be there\n[01:26.34] In the meantime it seems that I'm stuck (huh)\n[01:28.58] Swerving and crashing, that dying little bastard\n[01:30.32] Yung Christ, you address me as such (what)\n[01:32.45] Crazy little demon, they wave when they see me\n[01:34.26] Face tatted from ear to ear (yeah)\n[01:36.31] Northside boy with a Glock-sized toy\n[01:38.05] If I cock it, there's finna be tears here\n[01:40.25] Manic depressive, when life is in session\n[01:42.03] I hide in a room that's as dark as me\n[01:44.08] Dollar sign-B and it's still F-T-P\n[01:45.74] Fucking G-R-E-Y till I R-I-P\n[01:51.89] Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\n[01:54.22] Let ya brain soak\n[01:59.54] Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\n[02:01.58] Smoke scattered out, smoke scattered out\n[02:02.95] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: That Just Isn't Empirically Possible [Explicit]\n artist: $uicideboy$\n album: Stop Staring At the Shadows [Explicit]\n duration_ms: 123951\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n start_ms: 10\n end_ms: 3480\n- text: Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\n start_ms: 3480\n end_ms: 5850\n- text: Let ya brain soak\n start_ms: 5850\n end_ms: 7310\n- text: Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n start_ms: 7310\n end_ms: 11130\n- text: Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\n start_ms: 11130\n end_ms: 13110\n- text: Smoke scattered out, smoke scattered out\n start_ms: 13110\n end_ms: 15170\n- text: Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n start_ms: 15170\n end_ms: 19090\n- text: Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\n start_ms: 19090\n end_ms: 21490\n- text: Let ya brain soak\n start_ms: 21490\n end_ms: 22790\n- text: Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n start_ms: 22790\n end_ms: 26720\n- text: Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\n start_ms: 26720\n end_ms: 28730\n- text: Smoke scattered out, smoke scattered out\n start_ms: 28730\n end_ms: 30380\n- text: It's lonely at the top\n start_ms: 30380\n end_ms: 31950\n- text: All of my enemies have been defeated (RIP)\n start_ms: 31950\n end_ms: 34240\n- text: The crown has been sitting on my head for too long\n start_ms: 34240\n end_ms: 36200\n- text: It's starting to give me these lesions (yeah, yeah)\n start_ms: 36200\n end_ms: 38190\n- text: Don't follow the crowd, the crowd is misleading (no)\n start_ms: 38190\n end_ms: 40120\n- text: Stay solo, surrounded by all of my demons (ay)\n start_ms: 40120\n end_ms: 42680\n- text: Licking my wounds as they deepen (ay)\n start_ms: 42680\n end_ms: 44050\n- text: Constantly feeding them all of my secrets\n start_ms: 44050\n end_ms: 46120\n- text: 007, I got the golden gun, I got the golden gun\n start_ms: 46120\n end_ms: 48810\n- text: I'm busting, open up the door (secrets)\n start_ms: 48810\n end_ms: 50320\n- text: I'm at my breaking point, I cannot take this shit no more\n start_ms: 50320\n end_ms: 52690\n- text: I'm ready to fucking explode\n start_ms: 52690\n end_ms: 54270\n- text: Open up, knock knock\n start_ms: 54270\n end_ms: 55250\n- text: Here comes the Glock cocked\n start_ms: 55250\n end_ms: 56140\n- text: 9 milli, pop pop pop, oh no\n start_ms: 56140\n end_ms: 58110\n- text: Making a mess, my aim ain't the best\n start_ms: 58110\n end_ms: 59950\n- text: I guess I should clean this all up and go home\n start_ms: 59950\n end_ms: 76800\n- text: Percocet, Roxycodone, with some Xanax\n start_ms: 76800\n end_ms: 78880\n- text: That I had crushed up in some dust (huh)\n start_ms: 78880\n end_ms: 80860\n- text: Elevated to another dimension so I got a limp in my strut (fuck)\n start_ms: 80860\n end_ms: 84780\n- text: I do not care to be here or be there\n start_ms: 84780\n end_ms: 86340\n- text: In the meantime it seems that I'm stuck (huh)\n start_ms: 86340\n end_ms: 88580\n- text: Swerving and crashing, that dying little bastard\n start_ms: 88580\n end_ms: 90320\n- text: Yung Christ, you address me as such (what)\n start_ms: 90320\n end_ms: 92450\n- text: Crazy little demon, they wave when they see me\n start_ms: 92450\n end_ms: 94260\n- text: Face tatted from ear to ear (yeah)\n start_ms: 94260\n end_ms: 96310\n- text: Northside boy with a Glock-sized toy\n start_ms: 96310\n end_ms: 98050\n- text: If I cock it, there's finna be tears here\n start_ms: 98050\n end_ms: 100250\n- text: Manic depressive, when life is in session\n start_ms: 100250\n end_ms: 102030\n- text: I hide in a room that's as dark as me\n start_ms: 102030\n end_ms: 104080\n- text: Dollar sign-B and it's still F-T-P\n start_ms: 104080\n end_ms: 105740\n- text: Fucking G-R-E-Y till I R-I-P\n start_ms: 105740\n end_ms: 111890\n- text: Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\n start_ms: 111890\n end_ms: 114220\n- text: Let ya brain soak\n start_ms: 114220\n end_ms: 119540\n- text: Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\n start_ms: 119540\n end_ms: 121580\n- text: Smoke scattered out, smoke scattered out\n start_ms: 121580\n end_ms: 122950\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 122950\nplain: |-\n Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\n Let ya brain soak\n Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\n Smoke scattered out, smoke scattered out\n Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\n Let ya brain soak\n Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\n Smoke scattered out, smoke scattered out\n\n It's lonely at the top\n All of my enemies have been defeated (RIP)\n The crown has been sitting on my head for too long\n It's starting to give me these lesions (yeah, yeah)\n Don't follow the crowd, the crowd is misleading (no)\n Stay solo, surrounded by all of my demons (ay)\n Licking my wounds as they deepen (ay)\n Constantly feeding them all of my secrets\n\n 007, I got the golden gun, I got the golden gun\n I'm busting, open up the door (secrets)\n I'm at my breaking point, I cannot take this shit no more\n I'm ready to fucking explode\n Open up, knock knock\n Here comes the Glock cocked\n 9 milli, pop pop pop, oh no\n Making a mess, my aim ain't the best\n I guess I should clean this all up and go home\n\n Percocet, Roxycodone, with some Xanax\n That I had crushed up in some dust (huh)\n Elevated to another dimension so I got a limp in my strut (fuck)\n I do not care to be here or be there\n In the meantime it seems that I'm stuck (huh)\n Swerving and crashing, that dying little bastard\n Yung Christ, you address me as such (what)\n\n Crazy little demon, they wave when they see me\n Face tatted from ear to ear (yeah)\n Northside boy with a Glock-sized toy\n If I cock it, there's finna be tears here\n Manic depressive, when life is in session\n I hide in a room that's as dark as me\n Dollar sign-B and it's still F-T-P\n Fucking G-R-E-Y till I R-I-P\n\n Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\n Let ya brain soak\n Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\n Smoke scattered out, smoke scattered out\n"},{"id":38667188,"name":"That Just Isn't Empirically Possible","trackName":"That Just Isn't Empirically Possible","artistName":"$uicideboy$, 37M views, 282K likes","albumName":"","duration":124.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\nSmoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\nLet ya brain soak\nFresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\nSmoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\nSmoke scattered out, smoke scattered out\nFresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\nSmoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\nLet ya brain soak\nFresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\nSmoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\nSmoke scattered out, smoke scattered out\n\nIt's lonely at the top\nAll of my enemies have been defeated (RIP)\nThe crown has been sitting on my head for too long\nIt's starting to give me these lesions (yeah, yeah)\nDon't follow the crowd, the crowd is misleading (no)\nStay solo, surrounded by all of my demons (ay)\nLicking my wounds as they deepen (ay)\nConstantly feeding them all of my secrets\n\n007, I got the golden gun, I got the golden gun\nI'm busting, open up the door (secrets)\nI'm at my breaking point, I cannot take this shit no more\nI'm ready to fucking explode\nOpen up, knock knock\nHere comes the Glock cocked\n9 milli, pop pop pop, oh no\nMaking a mess, my aim ain't the best\nI guess I should clean this all up and go home\n\nPercocet, Roxycodone, with some Xanax\nThat I had crushed up in some dust (huh)\nElevated to another dimension so I got a limp in my strut (fuck)\nI do not care to be here or be there\nIn the meantime it seems that I'm stuck (huh)\nSwerving and crashing, that dying little bastard\nYung Christ, you address me as such (what)\n\nCrazy little demon, they wave when they see me\nFace tatted from ear to ear (yeah)\nNorthside boy with a Glock-sized toy\nIf I cock it, there's finna be tears here\nManic depressive, when life is in session\nI hide in a room that's as dark as me\nDollar sign-B and it's still F-T-P\nFucking G-R-E-Y till I R-I-P\n\nSmoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\nLet ya brain soak\nSmoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\nSmoke scattered out, smoke scattered out","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.01] Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n[00:03.48] Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\n[00:05.85] Let ya brain soak\n[00:07.31] Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n[00:11.13] Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\n[00:13.11] Smoke scattered out, smoke scattered out\n[00:15.17] Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n[00:19.09] Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\n[00:21.49] Let ya brain soak\n[00:22.79] Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n[00:26.72] Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\n[00:28.73] Smoke scattered out, smoke scattered out\n[00:30.38] It's lonely at the top\n[00:31.95] All of my enemies have been defeated (RIP)\n[00:34.24] The crown has been sitting on my head for too long\n[00:36.20] It's starting to give me these lesions (yeah, yeah)\n[00:38.19] Don't follow the crowd, the crowd is misleading (no)\n[00:40.12] Stay solo, surrounded by all of my demons (ay)\n[00:42.68] Licking my wounds as they deepen (ay)\n[00:44.05] Constantly feeding them all of my secrets\n[00:46.12] 007, I got the golden gun, I got the golden gun\n[00:48.81] I'm busting, open up the door (secrets)\n[00:50.32] I'm at my breaking point, I cannot take this shit no more\n[00:52.69] I'm ready to fucking explode\n[00:54.27] Open up, knock knock\n[00:55.25] Here comes the Glock cocked\n[00:56.14] 9 milli, pop pop pop, oh no\n[00:58.11] Making a mess, my aim ain't the best\n[00:59.95] I guess I should clean this all up and go home\n[01:16.80] Percocet, Roxycodone, with some Xanax\n[01:18.88] That I had crushed up in some dust (huh)\n[01:20.86] Elevated to another dimension so I got a limp in my strut (fuck)\n[01:24.78] I do not care to be here or be there\n[01:26.34] In the meantime it seems that I'm stuck (huh)\n[01:28.58] Swerving and crashing, that dying little bastard\n[01:30.32] Yung Christ, you address me as such (what)\n[01:32.45] Crazy little demon, they wave when they see me\n[01:34.26] Face tatted from ear to ear (yeah)\n[01:36.31] Northside boy with a Glock-sized toy\n[01:38.05] If I cock it, there's finna be tears here\n[01:40.25] Manic depressive, when life is in session\n[01:42.03] I hide in a room that's as dark as me\n[01:44.08] Dollar sign-B and it's still F-T-P\n[01:45.74] Fucking G-R-E-Y till I R-I-P\n[01:51.89] Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\n[01:54.22] Let ya brain soak\n[01:59.54] Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\n[02:01.58] Smoke scattered out, smoke scattered out\n[02:02.95] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: That Just Isn't Empirically Possible\n artist: $uicideboy$, 37M views, 282K likes\n duration_ms: 124000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n start_ms: 10\n end_ms: 3480\n- text: Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\n start_ms: 3480\n end_ms: 5850\n- text: Let ya brain soak\n start_ms: 5850\n end_ms: 7310\n- text: Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n start_ms: 7310\n end_ms: 11130\n- text: Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\n start_ms: 11130\n end_ms: 13110\n- text: Smoke scattered out, smoke scattered out\n start_ms: 13110\n end_ms: 15170\n- text: Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n start_ms: 15170\n end_ms: 19090\n- text: Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\n start_ms: 19090\n end_ms: 21490\n- text: Let ya brain soak\n start_ms: 21490\n end_ms: 22790\n- text: Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n start_ms: 22790\n end_ms: 26720\n- text: Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\n start_ms: 26720\n end_ms: 28730\n- text: Smoke scattered out, smoke scattered out\n start_ms: 28730\n end_ms: 30380\n- text: It's lonely at the top\n start_ms: 30380\n end_ms: 31950\n- text: All of my enemies have been defeated (RIP)\n start_ms: 31950\n end_ms: 34240\n- text: The crown has been sitting on my head for too long\n start_ms: 34240\n end_ms: 36200\n- text: It's starting to give me these lesions (yeah, yeah)\n start_ms: 36200\n end_ms: 38190\n- text: Don't follow the crowd, the crowd is misleading (no)\n start_ms: 38190\n end_ms: 40120\n- text: Stay solo, surrounded by all of my demons (ay)\n start_ms: 40120\n end_ms: 42680\n- text: Licking my wounds as they deepen (ay)\n start_ms: 42680\n end_ms: 44050\n- text: Constantly feeding them all of my secrets\n start_ms: 44050\n end_ms: 46120\n- text: 007, I got the golden gun, I got the golden gun\n start_ms: 46120\n end_ms: 48810\n- text: I'm busting, open up the door (secrets)\n start_ms: 48810\n end_ms: 50320\n- text: I'm at my breaking point, I cannot take this shit no more\n start_ms: 50320\n end_ms: 52690\n- text: I'm ready to fucking explode\n start_ms: 52690\n end_ms: 54270\n- text: Open up, knock knock\n start_ms: 54270\n end_ms: 55250\n- text: Here comes the Glock cocked\n start_ms: 55250\n end_ms: 56140\n- text: 9 milli, pop pop pop, oh no\n start_ms: 56140\n end_ms: 58110\n- text: Making a mess, my aim ain't the best\n start_ms: 58110\n end_ms: 59950\n- text: I guess I should clean this all up and go home\n start_ms: 59950\n end_ms: 76800\n- text: Percocet, Roxycodone, with some Xanax\n start_ms: 76800\n end_ms: 78880\n- text: That I had crushed up in some dust (huh)\n start_ms: 78880\n end_ms: 80860\n- text: Elevated to another dimension so I got a limp in my strut (fuck)\n start_ms: 80860\n end_ms: 84780\n- text: I do not care to be here or be there\n start_ms: 84780\n end_ms: 86340\n- text: In the meantime it seems that I'm stuck (huh)\n start_ms: 86340\n end_ms: 88580\n- text: Swerving and crashing, that dying little bastard\n start_ms: 88580\n end_ms: 90320\n- text: Yung Christ, you address me as such (what)\n start_ms: 90320\n end_ms: 92450\n- text: Crazy little demon, they wave when they see me\n start_ms: 92450\n end_ms: 94260\n- text: Face tatted from ear to ear (yeah)\n start_ms: 94260\n end_ms: 96310\n- text: Northside boy with a Glock-sized toy\n start_ms: 96310\n end_ms: 98050\n- text: If I cock it, there's finna be tears here\n start_ms: 98050\n end_ms: 100250\n- text: Manic depressive, when life is in session\n start_ms: 100250\n end_ms: 102030\n- text: I hide in a room that's as dark as me\n start_ms: 102030\n end_ms: 104080\n- text: Dollar sign-B and it's still F-T-P\n start_ms: 104080\n end_ms: 105740\n- text: Fucking G-R-E-Y till I R-I-P\n start_ms: 105740\n end_ms: 111890\n- text: Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\n start_ms: 111890\n end_ms: 114220\n- text: Let ya brain soak\n start_ms: 114220\n end_ms: 119540\n- text: Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\n start_ms: 119540\n end_ms: 121580\n- text: Smoke scattered out, smoke scattered out\n start_ms: 121580\n end_ms: 122950\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 122950\nplain: |-\n Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\n Let ya brain soak\n Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\n Smoke scattered out, smoke scattered out\n Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\n Let ya brain soak\n Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\n Smoke scattered out, smoke scattered out\n\n It's lonely at the top\n All of my enemies have been defeated (RIP)\n The crown has been sitting on my head for too long\n It's starting to give me these lesions (yeah, yeah)\n Don't follow the crowd, the crowd is misleading (no)\n Stay solo, surrounded by all of my demons (ay)\n Licking my wounds as they deepen (ay)\n Constantly feeding them all of my secrets\n\n 007, I got the golden gun, I got the golden gun\n I'm busting, open up the door (secrets)\n I'm at my breaking point, I cannot take this shit no more\n I'm ready to fucking explode\n Open up, knock knock\n Here comes the Glock cocked\n 9 milli, pop pop pop, oh no\n Making a mess, my aim ain't the best\n I guess I should clean this all up and go home\n\n Percocet, Roxycodone, with some Xanax\n That I had crushed up in some dust (huh)\n Elevated to another dimension so I got a limp in my strut (fuck)\n I do not care to be here or be there\n In the meantime it seems that I'm stuck (huh)\n Swerving and crashing, that dying little bastard\n Yung Christ, you address me as such (what)\n\n Crazy little demon, they wave when they see me\n Face tatted from ear to ear (yeah)\n Northside boy with a Glock-sized toy\n If I cock it, there's finna be tears here\n Manic depressive, when life is in session\n I hide in a room that's as dark as me\n Dollar sign-B and it's still F-T-P\n Fucking G-R-E-Y till I R-I-P\n\n Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\n Let ya brain soak\n Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\n Smoke scattered out, smoke scattered out\n"},{"id":40194440,"name":"Scope Set\u001fThat Just Isn't Empirically Possible","trackName":"Scope Set\u001fThat Just Isn't Empirically Possible","artistName":"$uicideboy$","albumName":"Stop Staring at the Shadows\u001fStop Staring At the Shadows","duration":124.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\nSmoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\nLet ya brain soak\nFresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\nSmoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\nSmoke scattered out, smoke scattered out\nFresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\nSmoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\nLet ya brain soak\nFresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\nSmoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\nSmoke scattered out, smoke scattered out\n\nIt's lonely at the top\nAll of my enemies have been defeated (RIP)\nThe crown has been sitting on my head for too long\nIt's starting to give me these lesions (yeah, yeah)\nDon't follow the crowd, the crowd is misleading (no)\nStay solo, surrounded by all of my demons (ay)\nLicking my wounds as they deepen (ay)\nConstantly feeding them all of my secrets\n\n007, I got the golden gun, I got the golden gun\nI'm busting, open up the door (secrets)\nI'm at my breaking point, I cannot take this shit no more\nI'm ready to fucking explode\nOpen up, knock knock\nHere comes the Glock cocked\n9 milli, pop pop pop, oh no\nMaking a mess, my aim ain't the best\nI guess I should clean this all up and go home\n\nPercocet, Roxycodone, with some Xanax\nThat I had crushed up in some dust (huh)\nElevated to another dimension so I got a limp in my strut (fuck)\nI do not care to be here or be there\nIn the meantime it seems that I'm stuck (huh)\nSwerving and crashing, that dying little bastard\nYung Christ, you address me as such (what)\n\nCrazy little demon, they wave when they see me\nFace tatted from ear to ear (yeah)\nNorthside boy with a Glock-sized toy\nIf I cock it, there's finna be tears here\nManic depressive, when life is in session\nI hide in a room that's as dark as me\nDollar sign-B and it's still F-T-P\nFucking G-R-E-Y till I R-I-P\n\nSmoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\nLet ya brain soak\nSmoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\nSmoke scattered out, smoke scattered out","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.01] Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n[00:03.48] Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\n[00:05.85] Let ya brain soak\n[00:07.31] Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n[00:11.13] Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\n[00:13.11] Smoke scattered out, smoke scattered out\n[00:15.17] Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n[00:19.09] Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\n[00:21.49] Let ya brain soak\n[00:22.79] Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n[00:26.72] Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\n[00:28.73] Smoke scattered out, smoke scattered out\n[00:30.38] It's lonely at the top\n[00:31.95] All of my enemies have been defeated (RIP)\n[00:34.24] The crown has been sitting on my head for too long\n[00:36.20] It's starting to give me these lesions (yeah, yeah)\n[00:38.19] Don't follow the crowd, the crowd is misleading (no)\n[00:40.12] Stay solo, surrounded by all of my demons (ay)\n[00:42.68] Licking my wounds as they deepen (ay)\n[00:44.05] Constantly feeding them all of my secrets\n[00:46.12] 007, I got the golden gun, I got the golden gun\n[00:48.81] I'm busting, open up the door (secrets)\n[00:50.32] I'm at my breaking point, I cannot take this shit no more\n[00:52.69] I'm ready to fucking explode\n[00:54.27] Open up, knock knock\n[00:55.25] Here comes the Glock cocked\n[00:56.14] 9 milli, pop pop pop, oh no\n[00:58.11] Making a mess, my aim ain't the best\n[00:59.95] I guess I should clean this all up and go home\n[01:16.80] Percocet, Roxycodone, with some Xanax\n[01:18.88] That I had crushed up in some dust (huh)\n[01:20.86] Elevated to another dimension so I got a limp in my strut (fuck)\n[01:24.78] I do not care to be here or be there\n[01:26.34] In the meantime it seems that I'm stuck (huh)\n[01:28.58] Swerving and crashing, that dying little bastard\n[01:30.32] Yung Christ, you address me as such (what)\n[01:32.45] Crazy little demon, they wave when they see me\n[01:34.26] Face tatted from ear to ear (yeah)\n[01:36.31] Northside boy with a Glock-sized toy\n[01:38.05] If I cock it, there's finna be tears here\n[01:40.25] Manic depressive, when life is in session\n[01:42.03] I hide in a room that's as dark as me\n[01:44.08] Dollar sign-B and it's still F-T-P\n[01:45.74] Fucking G-R-E-Y till I R-I-P\n[01:51.89] Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\n[01:54.22] Let ya brain soak\n[01:59.54] Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\n[02:01.58] Smoke scattered out, smoke scattered out\n[02:02.95] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: \"Scope Set\\x1FThat Just Isn't Empirically Possible\"\n artist: $uicideboy$\n album: \"Stop Staring at the Shadows\\x1FStop Staring At the Shadows\"\n duration_ms: 123902\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n start_ms: 10\n end_ms: 3480\n- text: Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\n start_ms: 3480\n end_ms: 5850\n- text: Let ya brain soak\n start_ms: 5850\n end_ms: 7310\n- text: Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n start_ms: 7310\n end_ms: 11130\n- text: Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\n start_ms: 11130\n end_ms: 13110\n- text: Smoke scattered out, smoke scattered out\n start_ms: 13110\n end_ms: 15170\n- text: Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n start_ms: 15170\n end_ms: 19090\n- text: Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\n start_ms: 19090\n end_ms: 21490\n- text: Let ya brain soak\n start_ms: 21490\n end_ms: 22790\n- text: Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n start_ms: 22790\n end_ms: 26720\n- text: Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\n start_ms: 26720\n end_ms: 28730\n- text: Smoke scattered out, smoke scattered out\n start_ms: 28730\n end_ms: 30380\n- text: It's lonely at the top\n start_ms: 30380\n end_ms: 31950\n- text: All of my enemies have been defeated (RIP)\n start_ms: 31950\n end_ms: 34240\n- text: The crown has been sitting on my head for too long\n start_ms: 34240\n end_ms: 36200\n- text: It's starting to give me these lesions (yeah, yeah)\n start_ms: 36200\n end_ms: 38190\n- text: Don't follow the crowd, the crowd is misleading (no)\n start_ms: 38190\n end_ms: 40120\n- text: Stay solo, surrounded by all of my demons (ay)\n start_ms: 40120\n end_ms: 42680\n- text: Licking my wounds as they deepen (ay)\n start_ms: 42680\n end_ms: 44050\n- text: Constantly feeding them all of my secrets\n start_ms: 44050\n end_ms: 46120\n- text: 007, I got the golden gun, I got the golden gun\n start_ms: 46120\n end_ms: 48810\n- text: I'm busting, open up the door (secrets)\n start_ms: 48810\n end_ms: 50320\n- text: I'm at my breaking point, I cannot take this shit no more\n start_ms: 50320\n end_ms: 52690\n- text: I'm ready to fucking explode\n start_ms: 52690\n end_ms: 54270\n- text: Open up, knock knock\n start_ms: 54270\n end_ms: 55250\n- text: Here comes the Glock cocked\n start_ms: 55250\n end_ms: 56140\n- text: 9 milli, pop pop pop, oh no\n start_ms: 56140\n end_ms: 58110\n- text: Making a mess, my aim ain't the best\n start_ms: 58110\n end_ms: 59950\n- text: I guess I should clean this all up and go home\n start_ms: 59950\n end_ms: 76800\n- text: Percocet, Roxycodone, with some Xanax\n start_ms: 76800\n end_ms: 78880\n- text: That I had crushed up in some dust (huh)\n start_ms: 78880\n end_ms: 80860\n- text: Elevated to another dimension so I got a limp in my strut (fuck)\n start_ms: 80860\n end_ms: 84780\n- text: I do not care to be here or be there\n start_ms: 84780\n end_ms: 86340\n- text: In the meantime it seems that I'm stuck (huh)\n start_ms: 86340\n end_ms: 88580\n- text: Swerving and crashing, that dying little bastard\n start_ms: 88580\n end_ms: 90320\n- text: Yung Christ, you address me as such (what)\n start_ms: 90320\n end_ms: 92450\n- text: Crazy little demon, they wave when they see me\n start_ms: 92450\n end_ms: 94260\n- text: Face tatted from ear to ear (yeah)\n start_ms: 94260\n end_ms: 96310\n- text: Northside boy with a Glock-sized toy\n start_ms: 96310\n end_ms: 98050\n- text: If I cock it, there's finna be tears here\n start_ms: 98050\n end_ms: 100250\n- text: Manic depressive, when life is in session\n start_ms: 100250\n end_ms: 102030\n- text: I hide in a room that's as dark as me\n start_ms: 102030\n end_ms: 104080\n- text: Dollar sign-B and it's still F-T-P\n start_ms: 104080\n end_ms: 105740\n- text: Fucking G-R-E-Y till I R-I-P\n start_ms: 105740\n end_ms: 111890\n- text: Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\n start_ms: 111890\n end_ms: 114220\n- text: Let ya brain soak\n start_ms: 114220\n end_ms: 119540\n- text: Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\n start_ms: 119540\n end_ms: 121580\n- text: Smoke scattered out, smoke scattered out\n start_ms: 121580\n end_ms: 122950\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 122950\nplain: |-\n Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\n Let ya brain soak\n Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\n Smoke scattered out, smoke scattered out\n Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\n Let ya brain soak\n Fresh up out the paint shop, rollin' in my drop top\n Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\n Smoke scattered out, smoke scattered out\n\n It's lonely at the top\n All of my enemies have been defeated (RIP)\n The crown has been sitting on my head for too long\n It's starting to give me these lesions (yeah, yeah)\n Don't follow the crowd, the crowd is misleading (no)\n Stay solo, surrounded by all of my demons (ay)\n Licking my wounds as they deepen (ay)\n Constantly feeding them all of my secrets\n\n 007, I got the golden gun, I got the golden gun\n I'm busting, open up the door (secrets)\n I'm at my breaking point, I cannot take this shit no more\n I'm ready to fucking explode\n Open up, knock knock\n Here comes the Glock cocked\n 9 milli, pop pop pop, oh no\n Making a mess, my aim ain't the best\n I guess I should clean this all up and go home\n\n Percocet, Roxycodone, with some Xanax\n That I had crushed up in some dust (huh)\n Elevated to another dimension so I got a limp in my strut (fuck)\n I do not care to be here or be there\n In the meantime it seems that I'm stuck (huh)\n Swerving and crashing, that dying little bastard\n Yung Christ, you address me as such (what)\n\n Crazy little demon, they wave when they see me\n Face tatted from ear to ear (yeah)\n Northside boy with a Glock-sized toy\n If I cock it, there's finna be tears here\n Manic depressive, when life is in session\n I hide in a room that's as dark as me\n Dollar sign-B and it's still F-T-P\n Fucking G-R-E-Y till I R-I-P\n\n Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I choke\n Let ya brain soak\n Smoke scattered out, blow to the dope, I\n Smoke scattered out, smoke scattered out\n"}]