Blood from the Stone lyrics

by

Qwel & Jackson Jones


[Verse 1: Qwel]
This world feels like crumbling plastic, tumbling backwards, crashing down
Glass and bubbling acid splashing back, shudder and smash unto the ground
The trumpet blasts been howling for days, I pray for my Savior to come from the clouds
The trouble we found amounts to nothing in respect to that rumbling sound
Thundering round this mountain, fumbling crowd mumbling wondering how
Thumbing their numbers and dust in their slumbering gowns under the sun just hustling louse
And huffin and puffin and f*ck it forget it, it's nothing, just suffer it out
What a grim pout, summer of sin, the fun'll begin and some'll get down
Some will get found and some will get singed and some will get big and some will get proud
And some will get humbled from pummeling mustard seeds, drown with the shuffling clouds
Juggling clowns, sniffing his doubts, drowning in Ritalin, tripping his now
Bow to the druggist, the towers just plummet but how he just loves this drifting in doubt
Fixing to dowse us down in splintered debris and this isn't me, the hisses agree
Physics of heat the vicious deceit and gimmick emcees and distance between
The images beaming to limit his thinking as if it drips from the flickering screen
Then it's bigger than dreaming and thicker than blood in the winter of grievance and b*tches and thugs
Figures of demons and simpleton heathens with cynical love
sh*t'll go bust if kids'll grow up, justice is reason in flux with the season
And read it and breath it and sh*t or get up, enough with conceit and us limping in slough
Huffing and puffing and wheezing, believing in nothing but
Me, me, me now, now, now

[Hook: Jamie Clemmons]
Hey listen to me, I got something to say
That's why I sing about me

[Verse 2: Qwel]
I name it anthrax is Xanax is half bar is fat scar
Is double dutching luncheon rubber duck artists, motherf*ck you rapstars
Brothers drugged by dragons in dungeons, running ads, sucking black tar
Son it's sad, but daddy and mummy and sissy and bubby give a sh*t if you listen to Missy and Puffy
It's fishies and puppies and ribbons and lovely and pretty and fluffy
And rusty and jagged and maggots and money, it's funny, you're laughing
Somebody's blasting a gunny at the front of the studying-
Class. Half of them bloody the other half running
Hated the TV, made it to TV, hatred is easy, we made it this ugly
Faded to nothing for nothing but pagers and cellies and nature is leaving and bleeding and plugging
And bugging and bleeping and love it or leave it or keep it this cuddled to huddle in secret
It cuddles with weakness in men, when will we see that this beacons pretend?
You get hemmed if you try to wake a sleeper from the deeps of his slumber underneath all you're gonna see is red
All this greed and this death and this grief and this debt that we perfect, that beasts project
An infection of freaks injected in streets projected; ain't that a neat effect?
When the lesson is green and the leavings a blessing we agreed hence with a seed to fence
The keys to Benz, a disease to boot, a scene to shoot, and a G defense
And a tweeked effect on a peaking crest, a a weak-minded fly to buy my weak cassette
If hes a friend he better let you burn a copy of this sh*t and observe the script for what Jesus says
He's returning kids, better turn to Him and learn the hymns so we can leave this stress
And this mess in the furnaces where the serpents sit and it's sweet revenge
[Hook: Jamie Clemmons]
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