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Chronic Feelings

Intoxicated X Jong Klote Rotterdammer (JKR)
Produced by Prod. $aint https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mT4E3cOHnoU
there'll be more

SOUTH SIDE $WANGAS (Feat. Jong Klote Rotterdammer)

God Facade: godfacade.bandcamp.com

All-Seeing Eye Records ℗ 2024

Camel Hand

Camel Hand (Prod. God Facade)

Toes Out

Verse 1:

It was just another Sunday morning
Mundane, scorning myself for the only day afforded
To refrain from work and appointments
That I spent ignoring, so I find enjoyment
In work’s importance, so fuckin boring
I decide I need a drink I can’t afford and
Heavy eyes peek into an unburdened wallet
Lazily putting soles on my feet, I hurdled oddly
Over imaginary obstacles, I do that often
Grab the keys to the car and pause for a moment
Joking to myself about hitting a family of four and-
“What the fuck?” How do I even come to that?
How do I… whatever, moving on from that,
But little did I know this day’s importance
A scratchy voice, I never noted, it was an omen
Belittling this, I open the door and didn’t notice
The sketchy noise, another door, it was a… ford focus?
I can’t remember what he drove, but it wasn’t potent
Felt like it was crawling to its grave, but I guess if it works
It took time to recall a name I still can’t remember, I-


Verse 2:

I was handcuffed to the headrest
This guy pushed me into his car with a beretta, restless
Rushing people off of the road, hard to explain, lets
Get to the part where we spoke, hit that family of four and-
Rambling about some oddities, I didn’t know
His ranting about a prophecy that he was told
A storyteller whose odyssey would be known
Through stormy weather set out to pave roads
The first of his brethren to chase gold
Hands raised in triumph he’s taking it alllll-
“What the fuck are you on about?” I have to question
“You’re the guy I wrote songs about”, pause-
I keep pressing him, what’s next
He keeps pressing the pedal, I’m blessed
We didn’t wreck, I lied, we hit that family of four
After he swept through a light, we got away, they’re floored
Didn’t stop for a moment, this guy’s a fuckin maniac
Driving through, a potent storm of cocainey-acts
Raging past, hopping corners and blazing tracks
I’m tryna prove to this addict I’m just an average
Kid from Arizona, not even black, I got no talent
He tells me fuck all that, I’ll wear the throne, here’s the deal:
The crown’s just a hat, what I hold’ll force SEALS
To launch an attack, holes through my cortex
Like many idols of peace, and generals of war, shit
The way he made it out, I’d always walk with a target
But I’m not a dog…
And like a droog verse, I’d like to skip it
But he insists the worst, it’s my mission
The conviction, his words make me consider
I told him get to the point, let me think it through
He said we got no time, we either die or do
And if I waste his gas money, he’ll kill me too
So, I’m pacing fast, thinking what if I fail to show
People what I have, and become
Just some dude, you know?

Toes Out

Avi

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