Everytime, everyday, anyway, acid.
(Instrumental)
out y'all It's all out war, be all wild as all outdoor If a coward got beef, y'all be checkin' his palm Paralyzin' my niggaz thorough kid, how bout yours
man or kill ten It's all the same after all, they can only hang you once Both hands clusty, chillin' with my man Rusty low down Blew off the burner kinda dusty
he fight Both hands clusty, bank account dusty Ever, say, my name, again, you pussy Like, an angry, cripple, man, don't push me Don't believe the kid
stoppin', high-derox hydrolic The kid with the most knowledge will obtain to touch top dollars Hold me down, hand me my cake, dusty, bake, activate
'm pooped But anyway the wind blows, the Dust you gotta go Chorus [Kid Crumbs] It's like Crumbs stay at a mic, comes to and from the ashes Pass the what kid
She would meet me in the morning On my way down to the river Waiting patient by the chinaberry tree With her feet already dusty From the pathway to the
draw you're gon' see the morgue but if you're too slow I catch you on the downlow (Oh no) Oh no, you mean The Kid, shit's real I ain't no John Wayne,
tube socks Golden platinum things unstainable I chew rocks Slipe wit type digital soup deflect bullets Black hooded surrounded by forty acres of wooded Land, like my cousin dusty
Make us into children Black and white of summer, and the golden light The way we touched each other in the stolen night The voices whisper in darkness Dusty
God so loved the idiot boy He gave him a pair of eyes to explore Gave him a pair of hands to destroy Any good thing that he found Put this kid in a candy
was best friends with Patty Patty Peppermint She would love to do things to that girl that Charles M. Schulz can?t print Pigpen was a dusty dude who
with these lingering voices Its hopeless I?ve got problems with authority Its like the moral of the story is calling me With silly pranks like you ain?t gonna win kid
I'll wrap your promo truck with a Nambla stencil To prove that you're fucking babies frontin' up in a rental I knew a kid who navigated it slippery
As far as I'm concerned, I've got your ashes in an urn Big up, the temperamental hold none barred kid What's your confunction? Tracks is type dusty
