Hi-C

Half of me nice I just lack the precise Skills to hide bodies So, I guess I'm asking for life When I die grave reads This where the manic kid lies My life is like The mannequin challenge awry I stay in the same position As the planet divides I manage to try To care about anything But I don't care if I die I am the plane preparing for flight Take off in the air of the night And crash into radicals claiming Aryan rights Malaria Type two Does that even exist Are you reading my mind Or just reading my lips My girl asked for me to do a line I sneezed on her tits Awkward old man, planted mole Like I'm freezing a zit I didn't mean to do it I didn't ask to be born I was passed a baton I take on various forms Of human life When I pack hash in the bong My brain exists I just think that half of it's gone I don't give a f*ck if you even like me I pack a punch; lunch-time Hi-C I hold myself highly And then I drop to the ground Talk to myself When cops are around Hide bodies not to be found I don't give a f*ck if you like me I pack a punch; lunch-time Hi-C I hold myself highly And then I drop to the ground Talk to myself When cops are around Hide bodies not to be found Who the f*ck am I And what have I become If your friends jumped Off a bridge Would you jump Or would you run Drugs, the only fun I have My tolerance is rising Passion burns inside him But he's lost at the horizon Robotic wireless prototype In conjunction with Verizon Microchip inside him backfired And now it seems he's whiling An asylum in his mind Valium, and his thoughts colliding Tryna act normal But he's lost and blinded Formed of metallic cannibinoids And the fabric of iron They monetized life Dividing people Through their actions and lying I gave up hope And now I think I'm actually dying Kill every mumble-rapper alive For ruining the Rapping environment I don't give a f*ck if you even like me I pack a punch; lunch-time Hi-C I hold myself highly And then I drop to the ground Talk to myself When cops are around Hide bodies not to be found I don't give a f*ck if you like me I pack a punch; lunch-time Hi-C I hold myself highly And then I drop to the ground Talk to myself When cops are around Hide bodies not to be found