Stitched Up

from by DGA (Dopest Gringo Alive)

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"Crocodile head on the chain on the neck"
"Everything I ever said is a lie"


LYRICS:

lyrics

Hypersonic fly aquatic creatures in your speakers

Dumbin' out a little more than I’m told to
Dome in the mildew
Dust on a high shelf
High in myself
Get picked apart
Get broken up
Get put together
Get stitched up

Tropical bottled and held in my breath
Aquatic elements all in the Benz
Crocodile head on the chain on the neck
Every new battle I’m bangin’ my chest
Takin’ a head off and takin’ my meds
Livin’ in upper and fakin’ the rest
Sittin’ at supper and thinkin’ about how
They’re brutally murderin’ all I am fed
I am the Rock of Gibraltar
I falter for nobody takin’ a shot up at nothin’
I am a-poppin’ a collar, hollerin’
Followin’ nada, my block in a bucket
Obviously, might slip up and
Give in again to givin’ a fuck and
Pro’ly all of this might take me
Into the mood in which I am nothin’

Everything I ever said is a lie
Living emotionally in the moment
Figure it’s why I don’t get out a lot
Sit in position to never see motion
Close up your lids and evict the commotion
Lay in the dirt and then take a few tokens
Wait as it workin’ away at your person
Take in the mud in the lung until chokin’

I don’t know if I am broken or somethin but
None of me seem to be functionin’ right
None of me, none of me fuckin’ is aight
None of me, none of me fuckin’ is aight
I don’t know if I am broken or somethin but
None of me seem to be functionin’ right
None of me, none of me fuckin’ is aight
None of me, none of me, none of me, none of me

(one-e-and-a-two-e-and-a-three-e-and-a-four-e-and-a)

Lookin’ at my copy of a dvd and I’m wondering
What bonus items might entice me to open it’s menu up
Talking to my therapist and honestly I’m wondering
If I know I am making words or if I know my hour’s up yet

Brain on tilt, God drank on the job
Give no fuck but he bang like dog
Stardate six nine for the cap log
Stay a bay boy till he hang with God
Stay ‘mazin’ the brain, that minotaur
Stay bangin’ the bass kicks in the car
Dome on neck get snapped back far
Roll on set with a rap that’s hard
Fly caught on the index and thumb though
My mind ride to El Segundo
I’m hella sus though, lookin’ honey
And I ain’t dancin’, I’m cookin’ dummy
I’m gatherin’ dust, a type of relic
My whole block get hella angelic
Vibes I pause in fly acrylics
Science fiction filed under realest, yo

I am jealous of all and everyone
I am motionless, wantin’ everything
I am relevant, I am confident
I am woken and poppin medicine (x2)

Dumbin' out a little more than I’m told to
Dome in the mildew
Dust on a high shelf
High in myself
Get picked apart
Get broken up
Get put together
Get stitched up

Hypersonic fly aquatic creatures in your speakers leave you speechless
Eatin’ peaches on a beach, I’m fallin’ all to pieces (x2)

(ahoo, ahoo…poor me)

credits

from FuegO SuS, released December 14, 2016
Ross G Cardillo
The Growling Son (Gabe Galang)
Koitus (Karly Quadros)

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DGA (Dopest Gringo Alive) Palo Alto, California

The Dopest Gringo Alive is the last son of Krypton and the patron saint of blast out rap.

Rapper and producer.

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