Andromida

(álbum: Past Cloaks - 2016)

Dark mage, obsidian drape
Voodoo, the space as he star-gazing, a patron of art
Printed in Matrix, too far placed in his ways of the law
Shame as he shaving his face, facing the day where his heart stationed
A stationary, deposit the gualla in [?] shavings
Projected, aimlessly ranting, but chafing the char basing
The tar laces the blunts, give a fuck what you partaking in
Four souls, transcend, trapped with a large [?]
So we see them songs, swat 'em
Jalapenos hot as Guatemalan springs, we faint to breathe
We paint the scenes of Nicaragua, ganja, seize it, new Armada
Chiefing, leave a piece, and then mahalo, swing it con Youtaro-san
Watch the isle tip
See the light, pry it shut, samurai assist, sight this loot, slyest
Highest nigga of the hierarchs
Trees chop, diamond barking, journey to the steep, loft sea
Wats, he's [?]
Lips too dry to spit
Swim in the sky as an astro-hieroglyph, his lungs match his irises
Fuck it...