Red pill rapping; snapping wires, disconnecting minds
Damned to exist beyond the space and time you occupy
Vision find Eiffel 65; everybody blue
Trapped behind illusion; lacking knowledge and truth
Following rules; living in bad conditions, a fixer-upper
You either eat or get eaten; I ain't missing supper
You can't avoid the rabble; only choosing your battles
Learning your lessons crossing paths on your travels; example
I met a man in hell; he said you can't prevail
Without the will to run the through every line like suicide drills
So I kill myself; I will myself to mental precipices
Pressing this into your central nervous system; effortlessness
The definition of penmanship with predilection
I am the premonition, make a wack emcee go missing
I am the vision; the heat that make you leave the kitchen
In correction for murdering beats; it's not suspicion
The seed is buried deep; I'm here to water it and light it up
Life's a bitch; get the V like mighty ducks
Line 'em up; let the lyrics lick the shots
This is not a drill; you either stop and drop or recognize the skill
The fire been burnin'; I been turnin' the wheel
Been workin' with steel since the pen learned the appeal
All these other cats lack the passion; spayed and neutered
While I'm scratching things they only dream about like Freddy Krueger
Forget the luger; you're not a shaker, not a mover
Your influence is Bhad Bhabie meets Amy Schumer
I'd laugh at you but you're not even a funny guy
Tell me what it's like to be born just to suck and die
Kids is putting nothing in and wonder why it's hard for 'em
Then seek a revelation or trick to the art form
This isn't magic; this is habit mixed with sacrilege
God-given nothin'; ain't a gift, I had to take the shit
Expelled from Hell for telling Satan f*ck himself
While up on multi-colored pills pilfered from D12
All alone, I'm in my zone, no, I don't need no help
If you hang with ghostwriters; homie, you should hang yourself
Well he's the writer, I'm the rapper, it's collaboration
Exasperation concentrating on these cats debating
My heart and mind are racing, around these tracks I'm pacing
You'll reach your peak eventually, I'll be the master waiting
Pollux & Castor - Suicide Drill Lyrics
Pollux & Castor - Suicide Drill Lyrics
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Red pill rapping; snapping wires, disconnecting minds
Damned to exist beyond the space and time you occupy
Vision find Eiffel 65; everybody blue
Trapped behind illusion; lacking knowledge and truth
Following rules; living in bad conditions, a fixer-upper
You either eat or get eaten; I ain't missing supper
You can't avoid the rabble; only choosing your battles
Learning your lessons crossing paths on your travels; example
I met a man in hell; he said you can't prevail
Without the will to run the through every line like suicide drills
So I kill myself; I will myself to mental precipices
Pressing this into your central nervous system; effortlessness
The definition of penmanship with predilection
I am the premonition, make a wack emcee go missing
I am the vision; the heat that make you leave the kitchen
In correction for murdering beats; it's not suspicion
The seed is buried deep; I'm here to water it and light it up
Life's a bitch; get the V like mighty ducks
Line 'em up; let the lyrics lick the shots
This is not a drill; you either stop and drop or recognize the skill
The fire been burnin'; I been turnin' the wheel
Been workin' with steel since the pen learned the appeal
All these other cats lack the passion; spayed and neutered
While I'm scratching things they only dream about like Freddy Krueger
Forget the luger; you're not a shaker, not a mover
Your influence is Bhad Bhabie meets Amy Schumer
I'd laugh at you but you're not even a funny guy
Tell me what it's like to be born just to suck and die
Kids is putting nothing in and wonder why it's hard for 'em
Then seek a revelation or trick to the art form
This isn't magic; this is habit mixed with sacrilege
God-given nothin'; ain't a gift, I had to take the shit
Expelled from Hell for telling Satan f*ck himself
While up on multi-colored pills pilfered from D12
All alone, I'm in my zone, no, I don't need no help
If you hang with ghostwriters; homie, you should hang yourself
Well he's the writer, I'm the rapper, it's collaboration
Exasperation concentrating on these cats debating
My heart and mind are racing, around these tracks I'm pacing
You'll reach your peak eventually, I'll be the master waiting
Damned to exist beyond the space and time you occupy
Vision find Eiffel 65; everybody blue
Trapped behind illusion; lacking knowledge and truth
Following rules; living in bad conditions, a fixer-upper
You either eat or get eaten; I ain't missing supper
You can't avoid the rabble; only choosing your battles
Learning your lessons crossing paths on your travels; example
I met a man in hell; he said you can't prevail
Without the will to run the through every line like suicide drills
So I kill myself; I will myself to mental precipices
Pressing this into your central nervous system; effortlessness
The definition of penmanship with predilection
I am the premonition, make a wack emcee go missing
I am the vision; the heat that make you leave the kitchen
In correction for murdering beats; it's not suspicion
The seed is buried deep; I'm here to water it and light it up
Life's a bitch; get the V like mighty ducks
Line 'em up; let the lyrics lick the shots
This is not a drill; you either stop and drop or recognize the skill
The fire been burnin'; I been turnin' the wheel
Been workin' with steel since the pen learned the appeal
All these other cats lack the passion; spayed and neutered
While I'm scratching things they only dream about like Freddy Krueger
Forget the luger; you're not a shaker, not a mover
Your influence is Bhad Bhabie meets Amy Schumer
I'd laugh at you but you're not even a funny guy
Tell me what it's like to be born just to suck and die
Kids is putting nothing in and wonder why it's hard for 'em
Then seek a revelation or trick to the art form
This isn't magic; this is habit mixed with sacrilege
God-given nothin'; ain't a gift, I had to take the shit
Expelled from Hell for telling Satan f*ck himself
While up on multi-colored pills pilfered from D12
All alone, I'm in my zone, no, I don't need no help
If you hang with ghostwriters; homie, you should hang yourself
Well he's the writer, I'm the rapper, it's collaboration
Exasperation concentrating on these cats debating
My heart and mind are racing, around these tracks I'm pacing
You'll reach your peak eventually, I'll be the master waiting
Writer: Steven Hastings
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid