Casper

By the age 9 I learned to throw these fists
At 22 to run my mouth
Now it's time to practice so by 45
I'll pass right through your skin into your soul
I ain't paying rent, I'm taking it
Owning space like it's all been mine
An alien setting up this shop
Flying orbits 'round lame hick hop
Surgery with the imagery
Analogy of the rhetoric
My way of talk comes from the woods
I got more than enough to be generous
Precise with cuts as a hatchet does
Detailed my mind like the bed of a truck
Overflowed with enough to play
Drove to the dump and dropped the gate

Y'all ain't getting the aim I'm after
Hunger in the soul, smart word crafter
Too much hate, boring chatter
Leave myself just call me Casper

Your gun shooting blanks
My aim hitting face
Your heart misses beats
Mine thuds the bass
Your hands looking soft
Mine working days
Your boots don't walk
Mine miss the lace

So who wanna come and try to get it, legit
I'll be the one to make you quit,
I'll sell a bit, you upload and it's celibate
Celebrate? No way
Gotta throw you back 'cause you all hook, no bait
Waiting for the day when you have the balls
To try and pop off with the word play, not today
Still looking for the v-card I left in a book, over due from the library
No return date, not my settle
Dictionary gave me paper cuts on my dick, too scary
Coming in quick with the pen is hairy
That's why I fuck these words so damn hard
Big boss man like snoop doggy style In the yard

Y'all act like some happy campers
Run this down, you cannot damper
Check the table, I'm dark matter
I'm a ghost, call me Casper

Your gun shooting blanks
My aim hitting face
Your heart misses beats
Mine thuds the bass
Your hands looking soft
Mine working days
Your boots don't walk
Mine miss the lace

Oh shit, you still standing there, you came unprepared
Just starting off, and running laps, all in no spare
Drop the clutch and burn the road
Owning this lane, don't know to slow
No need to fill up the tank, I ate the gas on my plate
Are you done making mistakes or will you be next in the grave
I got that country drive when it comes to taking shots
Lincoln hit in a Ford theater, bet he wished he dodged
Honestly, I'm bored as donuts in a bacon shop

Y'all too few, dress the actors
Prop them up, just disaster
Hungers there not getting fatter
Feed a ghost, I'm empty Casper

Your gun shooting blanks
My aim hitting face
Your heart misses beats
Mine thuds the bass
Your hands looking soft
Mine working days
Your boots don't walk
Mine miss the lace

Your gun shooting blanks
My aim hitting face
Your heart misses beats
Mine thuds the bass
Your hands looking soft
Mine working days
Your boots don't walk
Mine miss the lace



Credits
Writer(s): Benjamin Pettenati
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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