POST ELVIS:
Mind's going blank, there are bugs that have sank into all subconcious bifocal one glass tank.
You think devs have a problem with the code? it's alright, it's all metaphor, don't shoot the messenger.
Paradoxes plot holes in your logic states, CIA spooks ask "Be against a bitter state."
I don't qualify for fucking up my mental slate, even ask my therapist, I'm asking her to dialate.

"There are lines you don't cross." I'm foaming like a hot froth.
All the words are spilling out like you forgot you're on the sauce.
don't touch the melody it's very clear and plain to see.
One more strange analogy, and you will stop entirely.
I'm sensing third eyes, from people who are samurai's.
free your mind from altercations, scrub it clean with oxidation.
I'm taking brainwaves, even though they're out of place.
strike me up a decent chorus, punch your face into an orbit.

MAX TROPICS:
Punch your face into the next life.
Damn, you did the Sisyphus life.
Roll boulder down the mountain like "get drowned in Syphillis, guy"
Get tropical today, in a post apocalyptical way.
If you don't know what to say, be best for you to get out of my way.
I'm in a Jinbei, in a grim reaper Hoodie, breaking through your window pane.
feel the pain, I'm an icicle through brain, Post Samurai gone insane.
Blood drips from my scythe to your open mouth, like a sadastic wife.
You're taking your turn consumed in the tunnel with you bitch,
onto the next life.

Look, Illusion of safety was the curse that I had.
many took me a suburbian white man.
I got washed off the coast to the flatlands.
Banished, never to be seen again.
every I feel like I'm surrounded.
Complacent hicks, Racists got me hounded.
Her father called me a slur behind my back,
Never thought I'd meet anybody like that.
I got drunk for a year, ask me anything.
Lost a friend to the other side of 23.
couldn't sleep thinking I was almost causing,
someone's murder suicide, ask me anything.
ask me anything, ask me anything.
reaching out to find something inside of me.
the prophecy can't succumb to tragedy.
ask me anything, ask me anything.

POST ELVIS:
Don't hide your soul away, Ask me anything today.
Sadness shoots me like a ray,
making clouds turn into grey matter when I wake up late.
dreaming up a better fate.
where I don't really have to worry.
living carefree, just like kirby.
I'm taking promises from people who are ominous.
Shoot yourselves with paralyzers, drool coming out just like a geyser.
I'm showing faces to people who are faceless,
facing off against the world of people with their face curled.

MAX TROPICS:
There's a cog that's frozen solid in all possible escape route options.
Haunted by unspoken knowledge.
Stuck in a world of exhaustion
no shower could clean the thoughts
get out, futile to shout them out
sit down, and drownin out my noggin
get a 40oz. to hose it off with.
I must be rid of all this
call this brawl off fist in pockets
got no squad to share these thoughts with.
My bros went away to college.
This is the prologue to the 5 dollars
that made me say so long
harness is but a myth
it don't exist
word the artist.