Just Another Day
The Ill-Fitting Garibaldis Lyrics

From a southern state where they used to write candy paint
From a region known for its vibrant car paint colors

Taking cane to the brain and often slizz it on drank
Using drugs and alcohol to escape reality

But is it insane that I'm twisted distant from fame
Questioning the sanity of being detached from fame

You insist that I came, ignorance blitzing to flames James
People wrongly attribute my existence to ignorance

Dope must be in hell, catching hell like NFL
The drug trade is a hellish world, just like football

I tried to see eye to eye, but I see I fail
Attempting to understand others, but failing

Paper trails, got niggas singing like damn Adele
Evidence leads to people snitching and confessing

Lean cup runneth over like the holy grail
My cup is overflowing with lean, a prized possession

Slowly sail up the stream, on a percocet
Drifting through life in a daze, fueled by drugs

Without a sail or a stream, I can make a bag
Despite lacking direction, I still find a way to profit

Easy task, thinking all green like Peter Pan
Making money effortlessly, never growing up

And if the feds watching, I'ma be fresher than Dapper Dan
Even under surveillance, I maintain a stylish appearance

Clap your hands, if you ever went to go whack a man
Celebrating acts of violence if you've committed them

I'ma turn into a gospel choir band, amen
Transforming into a musical group, invoking spirituality

Still I stand, still, who the man, on demand
Resilient and respected, always in demand

Whole team gon' ride like we're Ubering, like
Our entire group will fiercely support each other

Impossible fork, sorcerer
A magician with an unimaginable weapon

Peel red gauze off a corpse's heart
Removing the cover to reveal a lifeless heart

Dr. Holmes, surgical tongs
A reference to a twisted doctor and his tools

Sterilised guns, pick flesh apart
Weapons designed to dissect and harm

Incubus host, diabolical ohms
Possessed by evil, emitting sinister vibes

Hell brim-fire, slave control
A fiery underworld that manipulates and enslaves

Six feet below, memorial stone Like Drury Lane, overrun with ghosts
Buried deep, a resting place filled with spirits

Inject ash, veins corrode
The act of injecting harmful substances into veins

Phone lines drop, blood dissolve
Communication breaks down, while violence unfolds

Nightshade, Mandrake enter my soul
Poisonous plants metaphorically consuming my being

Cold as Bohemian Grove
Unfeeling and detached like a notorious secret society

Overdose, passing O's
Experiencing a drug overdose, risking death

Hit me a lick under ritual bones
Committing a robbery in a sacred environment

Outside home, decompose
Existing in a state of decay outside of comfort

Drawn into hell by the piercing cold
Being lured into a destructive world despite the chilling consequences

Bitch, we hard bodies, so stay on the still of your boots
We are tough individuals, asserting dominance

We still totals, run them down, chasing frivolous fruits
We relentlessly pursue trivial gains by any means necessary

Though reality, most can't make a mill in a suit
Despite societal expectations, many cannot achieve great wealth

So they jump off the porch, cause you can't chase a mill on a stoop
They take risks because opportunities won't come to them

Blood lands through my hands like the sands of the hourglass
My hands are stained with the consequences of violence

Life fading, death awaits, time has passed
As life slips away, death looms closer

I can't recount the past, bitch, I'm recounting cash
Prioritizing wealth over reflecting on past experiences

Walked in from the salad stash, the grip in the sandwich bag
Entering with a hidden weapon concealed in a bag

Hit your block, walk up to your door, no time to pick the lock
Approaching your residence with aggressive urgency

Get the drop, kick it down, round, bout to pick your stop
Taking control of the situation, about to execute a plan

I run out the back and through the grass like I'm mowing lawns
Escaping swiftly by maneuvering through obstacles

On a notepad, it be the only time your guns are drawn
Your bravado is limited to writing lyrics on paper

Out for funds, but sometimes I guff a fund
Seeking money, but occasionally squandering it

Get too used with the tongue, bet it ain't no one on ones
Becoming skilled at speaking, no one can challenge me

Bitch, I'm coming on, gun bark, equip the muzzle
Asserting myself aggressively, preparing to intimidate

Go from dogs to bitches when they touch you
Transitioning from fierce to submissive when confronted

Bedlam door, Ouija board
Entering chaos and darkness through a supernatural tool

Woke up alive in a mental ward
Regaining consciousness in a psychiatric hospital

Weaved into fog, my thoughts deplore
Lost in confusion and unsettling thoughts

Locate the tomb of an anti-god
Finding the burial place of a deity opposing traditional beliefs

Conscience gone like Cherrie Mahan
Having no moral compass, like a missing child

Lean cup, stutter, double up
Experiencing drowsiness and intoxication from lean

Sacrifice souls to the Lord below
Offering lives to a dark deity

The year 1822 underneath the mud
A historical reference to a forgotten time and place

Won't survive, butcher knives
Facing certain death, threatened by sharp weapons

Blood filled cracks, homicide
Violent acts resulting in bloodshed and death

Infiltrate death like a parasite
Invading the realm of death with malicious intent

Innocents drowned by horror sites
Witnessing gruesome scenes that consume the innocent

Paralyzed, sent to die
Rendered immobile, heading towards an inevitable demise

Deep underground where bones reside
Buried in a subterranean world alongside remains

Eyes roll back, bending time
Experiencing disorientation and distortion of reality

Fading to black at my demise
Gradually losing consciousness until eventual darkness