[{"id":18134505,"name":"Spit Take","trackName":"Spit Take","artistName":"The Palmer Squares","albumName":"The One Takes (Take 3)","duration":368.62839,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yo, when I kill cadavers\nWhipping daggers\nLil' whippersnappers gon' shit their pampers\nGot the gift of gab\nSo I'll twist your cap\nAnd go tit-for-tat with a proficient rapper\nSophisticated\nI've written chapters full of miscellaneous linguistic patterns\nA simple slacker with simple standards\nSkip and scamper while I sip decanters\nStill, I never spill my soda\nIll quotes til I fill my quota\nPause then I do it over\nSo truth be told I feel lost in a supernova\nNo variation\nReplay the same ordinary day\nWhy change it up?\nI got a megabus full of sadist sluts\nPutting paper cuts on my naked nuts\nI better clean myself up\nPlead for help\nWhen I stringer bell ya like idris elba\nGreasy elbows to keep achieving\nWe lead the legion like king in selma\n(Hi ac)\nThat's what you say when you see me\nKick game to your dame at the fifi\nI'm insane, taking aim at the media\nHastily painting my name in graffiti\nBut I'm hardly an artist\nDon't mistake me for charming or harmless\nI'm pestario vargas\nMarkedly harvesting bars full of marvelous parlance\nSo follow the bouncing ball\nAnd sing along to the song while the crowd applaud\nI'm in the paint like bang boom pao gasol\nWith a power saw to disembowel y'all\nPeople said that when they peep the set\nWe let them see perfection in three dimensions\nTps like a diesel engine\nSeek attention from evil henchmen\nI mope along as I mow the lawn\nA woe-begone bloke in a deep depression\nBroken-hearted foes get blown apart\nSo don't start 'cause your bars don't meet the measure\nI'm a jovial joker\nA colloquial nomad known as a roamer\nSuch a potent aroma\nHoping the ozium cloaks the malodorous odor\nThe symposium's over\nSo you ain't gotta go home but you can't stay here\nCape fear like max cady\nYou can ask amy if the facts ain't clear\nYo, you got no shine\nNo skill and no cosign\nThe close-minded get clotheslined at the goal line when it's go time\nI intend to mar my contenders\nBar none the best\nSo discard the question mark\nCheck my repertoire\nI been bizarre\nBumping ken lamar in the rental car\nSan fran to maryland\nTrans american\nTravel the map then unpack the caravan\nWack to square you just can't compare us\nAc all up in the game like alan parrish\nI'm a bad samaritan\nThat's apparent as I'm candidly acting arrogant\nRap to your ear then it's back to my lair\nIf you like what you hear put your hands in the air with it\nLord I was born a rambling man\nMan, man\nForaging forward in a travelling band (band? Bam)\nHalf in the bag\nAn inadequate rapping to rack up a stack\nWhat we lacking we tripping like after three hits of gelatinous acid but this is reality\nIs it though?\nGet with the facts and react to 'em quick\nQuit laughing and kidding\nBe back in a minute\nWe planning to finish the business we didn't\nAfter we dip finna wrap up a swisher to pass in the whip and then back to the crib just to pop us some bottles\nThe classiest shit we could cop\nI live for the squad\nI'm finna be a big star, not twinkle twinkle\nWhen the sky fall y'all chicken little\nWhen I see the sky fall I'm bond, james bond\nY'all vietcong and I drop napalm\nAh, smell like victory\nSplit my head open and delve right into me\nLooking for idiosyncrasies\nFinna be footnotes written in history, listen\nYou isn't going to find\nWhatever you're hoping to find\nSo, close the safari tab when I rap and just open your mind\nFrozen in time\nFlashback to the future\nRan like benali\nBlack cats in the alley\nPack rats in the sewer\nBrass tacks I'm a loser\nI don't have scandalous rumors\nBut I'm certain that he will\nTerminally ill, rap's cancerous tumor\nHandle your stress\nBefore it handles you\nTrue manic depressive\nI could snap any second\nI feel like a rubber band being stretched\nEat a couple ambien, having a slumber\nAsk me a question, the answer will come from above\nLike the touch of a hand came to adam\nI am what I am and I done what I done\nDamn\nWho knew truth could blossom, bloom, and wither just like a rose do?\nYou do you and I'mma do whatever they said I wasn't supposed to\nSo true\nWack rappers identifying as dope\nAs if everybody the goat\nI'm at the end of my fucking rope\nHellfire and brimstone\nYeah I'm lucifer's child\nLeapt out of a window\nAnd land with boots on the ground\nIf you new to my town you better get used to the sound of the sirens and riotous youth\nThe sky ain't as blue and they shooting dehumanized mutants surrounded by violence\nI'm high as a kite\nA clueless ape\nA lucid state of mind\nHallucinate as moving shapes rejuvenate my future into ancient time and space\nWhich left is yet to be polluted\nSo embrace it\nIf human is a race then I'm a racist\nI once was blind but now I'm deaf to hysteria, yup\nRules is for the breaking\nShout out \"death to america!\"\nMight need relief from my nerves\nMy chakras are blocked and my third eye is cloudy\nMy feelings are hurt and I'm worse on the outside\nI sure wanna hurt somebody\nI need me a purpose\nA doctor or preacher I want to believe\nBut I'm not up to speed I'm just on it\nI want me a promise to keep\nI wanna be all I can be\nI want me a healer to read me a verse from the bhagavad gita\nI need a mantra to repeat\nI gotta believe in a god because all I believe in is me\nSee I don't give a fuck about nothing no mo'\nWe don't give a fuck about each other\nI don't give a fuck about yo mother\nI don't give a fuck about no ho\nHella greedy\nI hope that I see you in hell\nAnd never the twain shall meet\nKeep dreaming\nLove was seldom seen\nGo fuck yourself and fuck your self-esteem\nI don't give a fuck about debt\nI don't give a fuck about death\nI don't give a fuck about oxygen\nBox me in see if I even take another breath\nI bet you I don't\nBetter get me a rope and a stool if I do\n'Cause I'm nobody's fool\nAnd I'll prove it to you and to anyone testing my word\nLet it be a lesson to learn\nSaid term\nK\nHey\nLet it be a lesson to learn\nSaid term\nK\nHey\nLet it be a lesson to learn","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Spit Take\n  artist: The Palmer Squares\n  album: The One Takes (Take 3)\n  duration_ms: 368628\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yo, when I kill cadavers\n  Whipping daggers\n  Lil' whippersnappers gon' shit their pampers\n  Got the gift of gab\n  So I'll twist your cap\n  And go tit-for-tat with a proficient rapper\n  Sophisticated\n  I've written chapters full of miscellaneous linguistic patterns\n  A simple slacker with simple standards\n  Skip and scamper while I sip decanters\n  Still, I never spill my soda\n  Ill quotes til I fill my quota\n  Pause then I do it over\n  So truth be told I feel lost in a supernova\n  No variation\n  Replay the same ordinary day\n  Why change it up?\n  I got a megabus full of sadist sluts\n  Putting paper cuts on my naked nuts\n  I better clean myself up\n  Plead for help\n  When I stringer bell ya like idris elba\n  Greasy elbows to keep achieving\n  We lead the legion like king in selma\n  (Hi ac)\n  That's what you say when you see me\n  Kick game to your dame at the fifi\n  I'm insane, taking aim at the media\n  Hastily painting my name in graffiti\n  But I'm hardly an artist\n  Don't mistake me for charming or harmless\n  I'm pestario vargas\n  Markedly harvesting bars full of marvelous parlance\n  So follow the bouncing ball\n  And sing along to the song while the crowd applaud\n  I'm in the paint like bang boom pao gasol\n  With a power saw to disembowel y'all\n  People said that when they peep the set\n  We let them see perfection in three dimensions\n  Tps like a diesel engine\n  Seek attention from evil henchmen\n  I mope along as I mow the lawn\n  A woe-begone bloke in a deep depression\n  Broken-hearted foes get blown apart\n  So don't start 'cause your bars don't meet the measure\n  I'm a jovial joker\n  A colloquial nomad known as a roamer\n  Such a potent aroma\n  Hoping the ozium cloaks the malodorous odor\n  The symposium's over\n  So you ain't gotta go home but you can't stay here\n  Cape fear like max cady\n  You can ask amy if the facts ain't clear\n  Yo, you got no shine\n  No skill and no cosign\n  The close-minded get clotheslined at the goal line when it's go time\n  I intend to mar my contenders\n  Bar none the best\n  So discard the question mark\n  Check my repertoire\n  I been bizarre\n  Bumping ken lamar in the rental car\n  San fran to maryland\n  Trans american\n  Travel the map then unpack the caravan\n  Wack to square you just can't compare us\n  Ac all up in the game like alan parrish\n  I'm a bad samaritan\n  That's apparent as I'm candidly acting arrogant\n  Rap to your ear then it's back to my lair\n  If you like what you hear put your hands in the air with it\n  Lord I was born a rambling man\n  Man, man\n  Foraging forward in a travelling band (band? Bam)\n  Half in the bag\n  An inadequate rapping to rack up a stack\n  What we lacking we tripping like after three hits of gelatinous acid but this is reality\n  Is it though?\n  Get with the facts and react to 'em quick\n  Quit laughing and kidding\n  Be back in a minute\n  We planning to finish the business we didn't\n  After we dip finna wrap up a swisher to pass in the whip and then back to the crib just to pop us some bottles\n  The classiest shit we could cop\n  I live for the squad\n  I'm finna be a big star, not twinkle twinkle\n  When the sky fall y'all chicken little\n  When I see the sky fall I'm bond, james bond\n  Y'all vietcong and I drop napalm\n  Ah, smell like victory\n  Split my head open and delve right into me\n  Looking for idiosyncrasies\n  Finna be footnotes written in history, listen\n  You isn't going to find\n  Whatever you're hoping to find\n  So, close the safari tab when I rap and just open your mind\n  Frozen in time\n  Flashback to the future\n  Ran like benali\n  Black cats in the alley\n  Pack rats in the sewer\n  Brass tacks I'm a loser\n  I don't have scandalous rumors\n  But I'm certain that he will\n  Terminally ill, rap's cancerous tumor\n  Handle your stress\n  Before it handles you\n  True manic depressive\n  I could snap any second\n  I feel like a rubber band being stretched\n  Eat a couple ambien, having a slumber\n  Ask me a question, the answer will come from above\n  Like the touch of a hand came to adam\n  I am what I am and I done what I done\n  Damn\n  Who knew truth could blossom, bloom, and wither just like a rose do?\n  You do you and I'mma do whatever they said I wasn't supposed to\n  So true\n  Wack rappers identifying as dope\n  As if everybody the goat\n  I'm at the end of my fucking rope\n  Hellfire and brimstone\n  Yeah I'm lucifer's child\n  Leapt out of a window\n  And land with boots on the ground\n  If you new to my town you better get used to the sound of the sirens and riotous youth\n  The sky ain't as blue and they shooting dehumanized mutants surrounded by violence\n  I'm high as a kite\n  A clueless ape\n  A lucid state of mind\n  Hallucinate as moving shapes rejuvenate my future into ancient time and space\n  Which left is yet to be polluted\n  So embrace it\n  If human is a race then I'm a racist\n  I once was blind but now I'm deaf to hysteria, yup\n  Rules is for the breaking\n  Shout out \"death to america!\"\n  Might need relief from my nerves\n  My chakras are blocked and my third eye is cloudy\n  My feelings are hurt and I'm worse on the outside\n  I sure wanna hurt somebody\n  I need me a purpose\n  A doctor or preacher I want to believe\n  But I'm not up to speed I'm just on it\n  I want me a promise to keep\n  I wanna be all I can be\n  I want me a healer to read me a verse from the bhagavad gita\n  I need a mantra to repeat\n  I gotta believe in a god because all I believe in is me\n  See I don't give a fuck about nothing no mo'\n  We don't give a fuck about each other\n  I don't give a fuck about yo mother\n  I don't give a fuck about no ho\n  Hella greedy\n  I hope that I see you in hell\n  And never the twain shall meet\n  Keep dreaming\n  Love was seldom seen\n  Go fuck yourself and fuck your self-esteem\n  I don't give a fuck about debt\n  I don't give a fuck about death\n  I don't give a fuck about oxygen\n  Box me in see if I even take another breath\n  I bet you I don't\n  Better get me a rope and a stool if I do\n  'Cause I'm nobody's fool\n  And I'll prove it to you and to anyone testing my word\n  Let it be a lesson to learn\n  Said term\n  K\n  Hey\n  Let it be a lesson to learn\n  Said term\n  K\n  Hey\n  Let it be a lesson to learn\n"}]