Throw the Match

Hook: Throw the match We don't ever look back at the ash Blood stains in my teeth As I laugh Walking through the fire whiskey In my flask My brother Throw the match My brother Throw the match [Verse 1]: Milk's gone bad Travel a lot Mail piles up And the apples will rot The fickle wanna ask If we can battle or not I say unravel the knot And a rattle will pop Walk down the block With a handful of rocks Looking at Goliath Like he cattle to prod The sky is the limit They can't handle the fog If our van break down We bringin' camels & dogs Giddy up Divvy up all of the rations Irrational Passion in casual Fashion You travel with snakes Samuel Jackson Actors with accents no actual rappin The other day I threw My ring in the ocean & thanked god that I wrapped It up in a Trojan Heroes never look back at explosions So we keep goin' & never trust no one Hook: Throw the match We don't ever look back at the ash Blood stains in my teeth As I laugh Walking through the fire Whiskey in my flask My brother Throw the match My brother Throw the match Verse 2 [Ft. P.O.S]: I been burnt Lit it Hold it too long Forget it I ain't learnt This whole shit's a mess But fuck it I'm with it All my years All my fears Have come true But nothing has killed me Who are you? LOL At your face Shit yeah Come get me My whole crew is made Of monsters We driven How you been livin? I stay riding With some hell bent On doing We keep shit moving Ain't no use Unless we cruise With a view That is truly Worth looking at Murder every sycophant Serve the servants Ipecac I'm barf incarnate Hit alarms and Carve a part to flee I been starving just to eat you My only purpose is free Yeah Barking up like every single tree Wrong or right If I die tonight Just know I'm doing it Extra in the Afterlife Hook: Throw the match We don't ever look back at the ash Blood stains in my teeth As I laugh Walking through the fire whiskey In my flask My brother Throw the match My brother Throw the match Verse 3: So much flavors Like the mic of a dive bar Throw the match Follow through With the side arm Get money Fuck critics Make you a pie chart Ain't gonna be a bitch In record label side cars No way no sir Not a dodo Fuck a pose X-rays as the promo Good to know Drunk in a row boat Need to find god Still can't from my phone though Direct in from my heart To an XLR Drop a flow Leave the bar With the smell of tar Bed of stars in the sky Yeah we set apart Never put the fame & the women Ahead of art Cut ties Burn it down Like it's Fort Mac Rep Alberta & the people Who support that All in with a bluff And a short stack Hoping that it doubles Next time we report back