War Stories

[Verse 1: billy woods] Cease and desist, the owner's sign said "Out of Business" Dimwits still lined up at the company store with scrip Bigg Jus, how I dipped, pop back up and spin your block And gaffle whips, a limerick’ll get the plantation lit Look around, bush too thick to run, don’t play dumb Bail drop the bonds, they’ll wait for you to jump Scavenger hunt with the mutts out front Musical chairs to a dump truck backing up Greyhound bus when the dogs rush The room hushed when his Timbs hit the sawdust Feel it in the air like a Confederate flag Somewhere pulled off getting gassed And I seen it in the truck cab, I laughed Thought I was tripping out here, I’m glad Pedal to the petrol mashed, mortar and pestle Pesto go in the bag, the bag gone in the drag Like every deadbeat dad, his excuse? He better than the one he had Even the haters ain’t want it to be this bad Donovan McNabb, even his neighbors pretended to be sad Even the prosecutor considered dropping the whole thing But then she said, "nah", a stroke of the pen A flick of the wrist, a shiv in the neck instead of the ribs Josef K when they led him to the ditch I used to think I was better than this, I was remiss I was impressed how they boiled it down to a gif I was shipwrecked but had enough for a spliff I was depressed watching old men bicker Over musty old beef from ’96, dusty old bricks Two-hundred and forty some months And to think you ain’t learned shit (You ain't learned shit, you ain't learned shit) [Hook: Billy Woods] Fuck your war stories, hideous Old Glory You tell him how he did shorty? Nah never that, never that It was all just a nest of rats, a nest of rats It was all just a nest of rats Fuck your war stories, hideous Old Glory You tell him how he did shorty? Nah never that, never that It was all just a nest of rats, a nest of rats It was all just a nest of rats [Verse 2: Elucid] Out here chatting like my MAC gently weeps Who ‘bout that action, run it back black That beef from ’03, screeching tires Hold iron like a second member These new bodies full of wires I been on cusp, I can remember The dust be the evilest, staticky touch Let me pack eunuchs up Fuck a trace, mag models Backseat of Benz truck, nuts Foreign plates and trust clutch You can barely inch up to trip the sensor Fake twenties out the university printer Silver bubbles and Super Timbs We called it getting fresh, not fashion Westside highway mashing, dumbing out Almost pulled out on Mother Gaston Traffic, memory’s random access, Friday night Niggas in the fish house, packed tight and sweaty Fogged windows and glasses, ice cup thug passion Whiting on wheat, real nigga vittles Fried crisp, but still soft in the middle Don’t get poked, down feathers float to the kitchen Back to the wall, open eyesight swivel Nest of rats, you brought Anubis with you