Wind Instrument lyrics

(Imagine That)
I’ll be the dirty bridges you don, born with torn knee
God warned he loved the red earth, smirked and spawned me
I found him in a pawn shop guitar with 4 strings
Between rusted trumpets and busted keyboards with worn keys
“There’s no warranty”, said a man with orange teeth
A splintered toothpick, but whispered music in his warm tea
I wrapped my tongue around the frets, and hummed the tune of scorched feet
Said I’ll take the trumpet too, and made his tuning fork weep
He said “This trumpet ain’t for sale, plus I ain’t the store keep
I used to play your guitar, now I’m just the floor sweep
Now these bones are only sweet tones that old boards creek
This flesh crumbles under the rumblin’ L like better men before me”
“But you, me, your misery… should form a 4-piece”
“Who’s the other man?”, he said
“You’ll understand when you’re free
See these chains ain’t really chains, the only anchors you’re weak
Take them shackles off your ankles son, be thankful you’re free”
He said, “Well son of course you’re dizzy”, busy callin' four three
I played it west on North plus way up north on Morse Street
I thought well how come he don’t play no more, playin’ poor me
He said, “I do, I just stopped when I heard the door creak”

Blow ya horn, the children chose to name ourselves
I call myself King Crab, but kinged the claws Qwel
CHICAGO, with lost souls & moes singin’ all well
Lords with vices and shifty eyes that blinked once and saw hell
Brothers of selfish struggles, liquor stores and Arabs
Baby’s dads’ hustle for money, gainin’ chunkyface scabs
It ain’t funny; they’ll shank your drunken yuppie cake ass
Where rockheads don’t fall for dummies , cause they love the taste bad
My sky’s a jail cell ceiling with butane tags
A whole town of motherf*ckers, just a few claim dad
It’s tribulation, stationed on this doomed train path
A time for patience, I walk Yeshua’s truth sake pact
Until Death, my city stay twisted like toothpaste caps
And live wicked as brick idols with two face masks
Unemployment and Poisoned needles turning blue veins black
Role Models hold bottles and bruise-stained bags
The same light that Sike puked under like 2 days back
Had a tight Kizer cab on it, right, dues paid fat
Still my windy prison shines within like Kool-Aid packs
The sh*tty brick upon brick to chill the blue flame math
With insanes, canes & hats to get your toupee snatched
With boxcars & snake eyes the place where Tuesday’s crap
Will lead to funerals on Friday, but dude ain’t mad?
It’s the insanity that made a man of me in this swamp
On Blackhawk where backtalk can get your family stomped
Where hammers swinging banshees sing to please the phantoms we fought
Who play dead like basehead fantasies & candy fiend thoughts
Where cats spittin’ typically will leave you mammary soft
Where cops kill the cipher guarantee, calamities cross
666 lost on the banana heat tossed
In my city, where the law pities the granite street boss
To call God green as Cabrini as this planet veers off
Don’t fool yourself it’s war callin’ this Sodom sty home
Those that conquer shall be saved, come my father my throne
We made ourselves kings…
The fat & happy Rubber Duckie squeaks

It’s hell within these dim streets streaked with wind burned curbs
The belly of the beast where demons speak in sin slurred words
Anguish as deep as language barriers and gifts worth work
Where cats scratch for sacks of herb until that cistern burst
Where serpents won’t wait their turn to stick that intern nurse
Where winter hurts if you ain’t from here (Imagine that)
It’s mistletoe town for death flirtin’ with brim turned herbs
Where handshakes and paper worship is what kids learn first
It’s Lady Liberty’s disease plagues with pimp fur shirts
Crowned victorious, drown warriors in skin turned Earth
Like it’s the homicide that makes you modify your path home
Where draggin’ feet near crack and concrete will get your back broke
I promise monsters exists and hiss at crystal glass souls
To shatter martyr flesh the art of death, this sh*t’s a black hole
Where cops stop to give their arm a rest and launder that dough
Rockin’ Kevlar amour vests, hard enough to cap slow
The lung cancer murder capital, puff the excess
Dumb deaf & blind, 99% the last math toll accessed
Pastor knows stress where madness don’t rest
The best rappers snap back to back to sh*t on as*h*les
Where misery seems to plateau and dreams are commodities
I pray for earthquakes to break this hypnotic monotony
Cause the mics will see to justice, all we gotta be is patient
We just bought the lock and key, and got repaid with abomination
The biggest lies fall between us, let the fat & happy still feast
I’m laughin’ at me too, still smokin’ Phillies
The windy city’s just the tip of it, the wicked chill streets
But those that conquer shall be saved, come my father my peace
We made ourselves Kings
The fat & happy Rubber Duckie squeaks
We made ourselves Kings

I got a one sided penny and a one trick pony
One is the loneliest number
So I’mma flip it I’mma beat this dead horse until it speaks
Please leave me alone in my slumber