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about

Featured on the mix tape "ZEITGEIST!" (2014).

lyrics

I awoke with the eyes of a vulture
A craving for a dead set culture
Hell has the smell of sulfur
I’ve got a mind that’s made for torture
This girl I met, she tastes like death
Head of a vulture, X’s on her breasts
Cuts on her wrists and shortness of breath
She’s the messiah of all that’s left
I awoke in the desert with blood on my hands
Playing down the role of a family man
There’s no family to turn to when you’re on the lamb
I’m no son of god, goddamn
But I’m still fighting figments of my imagination
Placating my own terms of alienation
This pain medication is causing sedation
When I’m all done I’ll be the talk of the nation
I was born with a shred of Satan in me
He lived between the walls of my stomached grief
Bled through the course of my social anxiety
I martyred myself so you could fall asleep
Raised in L.A. in the company of angels
The devil took pics of me to capture my angles
Once or twice I got caught in cupid’s strangle
The lover in me needs to learn how to - HA!
While Jay and Kanye were making you watch the throne
I was sneaking past them to steal the philosopher’s stone
I came in like an asteroid blasting a path
To lead the sheep to the stage where I rap
I’ll compose you a symphony of static and screams
I will feed into your need for a god or king
I’ve died damn near a hundred times and that’s a fact
But each time I came back better than the last

I awoke with the heart of the tortured
A craving for pure, candid horror
In hell I’m known as the scorcher
My best friend will be the coroner
This girl I met, she danced with death
Pirouetting until her final breath
Cuts on her wrists, cuts on her chest
She’s the queen of the damned rest
I awoke in a ghost town with cuts on my back
When I die make sure to bury me in black
That’ll be two years past the suicide pact
Five years after I’ve relapsed on smack
I was born without a shred of salvation in me
Doomed from the moment the womb expelled me
Chained to the wall but told that I was free
Forced to sing renditions of grief out of key
I was raised by wolves in a land of sheep
It’s in the shepherd’s pasture where I creep
You’ve entombed me so you could fall asleep
I bet you’ll find me dead in a garbage heap
I wrote these songs using blood as my ink
In an effort to get you all to think
The truth is that everyone can dream
I’m looking for those who go and conquer kings
I’ve created my world in the image of me
That’s why it’s so bleak and harrowing
You’re all just reflections of my solemn grief
That have taken to the streets in protest of me
Can’t believe I killed myself over the company of sheep
When there was a pack of wolves right in front of me
Consider this song the beginning of the end for me
A slippery slope into a grave for eternity

credits

from The E​.​P​.​'s of S​.​A​.​, Vol. 2, released December 20, 2014
Music, lyrics, & vocals: Armando Flores Jr.

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Social Anxiety Los Angeles, California

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