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Rising
Jam Baxter
,
Ed Scissor
Popularity · Low
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Lyrics
Original
Translation
Bilingual
I swear I'm so full of inspiration right now
I could smear a page with the paste from my mouth
And it'd crystalise to a page of rhymes doused
In flames that rise out my brain and fly south
Escape the lighthouse and laugh as the ships crash
Splish-splash-o-rama, the sagas of Sinbad
Sharks in a mish-mash dance in the pitch black
And bring back parcels of darkness and pig fat
So swig that six-pack of fix back for dinner
Switch back to rinse when shits brass, I'm slithering
Zig-zags beginning to strip back the litter
Producing the urge to bitch slap the mirror
We're living the dream with vanillas and greens
And a sprig of bitter innocence pickled and steamed
Straight served as a dish with medicinal schemes
Dripping in grease and shit, we're beginning to breathe
So from the spack to the rinse, from the rinse to the spack
I'm back from the brink with a fistful of tracks
Straight rising, straight rising, rising
My whole team stay rising
I swear I'm so full of inspiration right here
I could kick a sixteen that travels light years
And circumnavigates planets like the light shade
Patterns of a white page barren on a new year
My crew smears beef on these tunes like
Sewer pipe grease drip-dripping from this dude's mind
Forming a fortress that soars from the corners
Of thought patterns porous and settles in the night sky dawning
Like rose petals on the lawn in the
Fresh stench of rancid in the morning
The mould riddled mortuary morsel to guzzle back
Caught in a muzzle trap, touring the Hubble maps, falling
Snap to the hunger pains stabbing in my stomach sack
Pouring a pound of fat stored in my gullet gaps
Clawing at floorboards, fiending for all sorts
Stashed in the pantries and pans like the summer rats
This is the most important meal that this ragged
Wag shit dribble rap stickleback scene has ever had
So give it thanks for these tablets, meat-laden language
Gas coagulating in the cancer tank
Cabbage patchwork patterns from the map burned ashes
Wracking grey earth matter where tobacco racked
Back to black dirt damage and the spack gurn habits
Of this sand trap dwelling scissor sammy yak
From the rinse to the spack, the spack to the rinse
I'm back from the shops with a bag full of mince
We rising, we rising, rising
All my mans stay rising
I think I'll have the pan-fried brass outs
On a bed of grilled brain matter
J backer with my face in the steak platter
Straight staggering the rain in the same manner
Where the snakes gather with my basic escape ladder
But my cake batter stays rising
New day, same icing, blindingly shining
Slimy sliced eyes and pints of white lightning
Spicy fried minds, it's mighty fine dining for some
But what lies in the crumbs?
A lifeline hiding disguised in the scum
Stay biting my tongue
And as the veins burst, my brain surfs on the wave of decayed earth
All in a day's work, stray birds butters beaks
Pecking for the pay dirt, stray worms underneath
Wrestling the framework, it's the true kings
Stay yamming on a packet full of mood swings
So from the spack to the rinse, from the rinse to the spack
I'm back from the brink with a fistful of tracks
Straight rising, straight rising, rising
My whole team stay rising