🔞Headstone, Fam (Cover)

...The fuck? Look at this old-ass headass. Parked on his crusty throne. Weak shit. Rain slags the street / this frantic beat News is fake as hell / that bullshit tweet Leather seat's a trap / got roots in my feet Fossil-ass raccoon dog still scheming on the cheap "Take the blame?" You bitch / the blame's your heap Briefcase full of ghosts / city's soul is sleep "This ground is sacred?" Fuck outta here, creep The only plan you guard is the shit you keep. Stepped on every body for this height How's the view from your fake life? Power's just a drug that killed your light Now you're numb and stiff / can't feel what's right. A beast that gulps the gray and black A wack rockstar act / no fact Dirty sludge just pumps where clean veins crack Pure taste blurs to faded track The well is dust / no turning back You… you're the curse, you fucking wack. Thirty years of rot / bent the royal spine Now this bitch needs a cane to draw the line Stand stiff for the anthem / waste of time Whose dead march is this? A goddamn sign A room full of yes-men / all their faces shine A ghost parade of suck-ups / puppets in a line "The king got no clothes" — silent as a mime Threadbare ego at the end of time. That chair's a trap door — feel the drop Scared to move 'cause the acting's got to stop White-knuckle grip on a fake crown Your whole world's burning silently down Old promises crust / dusted in the past That vote I cast in trust? That shit didn't last "It's politics," you bitch / like that covers your ass That grown-man fail is why I grind my jaws. A kid's stare is fire burning through the glass A path of honor? Or just a dream, alas? Where did the simple joy pass? That chair's your casket, ass. A beast that gulps the gray and black A wack rockstar act / no fact Dirty sludge just pumps where clean veins crack Pure taste blurs to faded track The well is dust / no turning back You… you're the curse, you fucking wack. Don't gas me 'bout "fate," you washed-up liar Drink your own venom / feed your weak-ass fire Body's mud and piss / a tank of fake desire Your ranked-up crocodile tears won't lift you higher. Nothing left to protect on that throne of barbed wire It's just your headstone, fam. Now fucking expire. Game over, scrub. No sound. Dead air.