Clockwork Freestyle (feat. Chase Chaos)

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Johnny Tra$h

5:29

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We popped a bottle then hit the throttle all the way up
Eighth of fungus, alligators and the darkest hush
Turned up the volume on Mr. Anderson
Swingin' & drinkin' until she let her hair down
I was thinkin' the Seminole Wind'll bring it to 10
Then we'll steadily float light as a feather to the panhandle
She played my vinyl of Bad Company
Maybe I'll put the dick inside 
And ride that Freebird to candlelit dinner

Tequila turn it up. Eleven, then Thirteen
1st Avenue North in St. Pete, Cucumber Creepin'
Girl, watch me bend it til you think it'll break
I baked a cake full of dank but don't be afraid 
'Cause this is Johnny's Rocket 
And I'm licensed to pilot in almost every state of mind
You weren't mine
But ever since I saw you babin' and rollerskatin'	
We stay ridin' dirty and my soul stays educated
I always knew you could get high
But have you ever opened up your Third Eye
With fuckin' Salvador Dali spiralin' up at birds' eye? 

Lab coat so white, I only f*ck with Jewish Chemistry
A couple women with issues, sitting in symmetry
Perfect Circle? 
Shit
Done fucked 'em all
Back where I'm from that's the "Thot-ermelon Crawl" 

Whats next? Ride on a Tranny-saurus Rex
With femme-bots and Creamdaddy
Said Hoosier Daddy barely had me Indiana Jones 
Up in your bones until you own it

I come in fifty shades and flavors
Ice cream paint whip, daddy
Gettin' fuckin' ripped in the back of a black Caddi'
Hipster secretaries and college girls are eatin' Addy 
As I swallow an Illegal Burrito full of my pride
Baby girl, it's time to ride
Damn! You got a Vagina?! 
Damn, bitch, that's crazy...
That thing looks like you ordered red, white & bruises 
Made in China with a side of white gravy

Oh, shit
Mister Motherfucker
I been actin' like a prophet
Temperature is risin' like a poorly built NASA rocket
Don't pass 'GO' and don't collect two hundred dollars
I don't play Skip-Bo or Pinochle
F*ck with with UNO & a Bop-It

Don't say that
Bang-ba-bang-bang, bad, 'cause all I did was pray-pray
Like a rib that never heals
Girl, you actin' like Sha-nae-nae
Spillin' coke all over the womens' bathroom
Like that bitch needed moppin'
Leave a greasy ass snail trail
Climb up on that pole and pop it

Easy Bake Oven, back to the kitchen
You used to give me head in the whip
Now all hear is bitchin'
I aint never coming home. I'm off to Never-Neverland
You smell like cigarettes & vodka
Yeah - I used to love it... 
Now I don't understand

Set your wings on fire. Tie you to the tracks
While you take the train home
I catch the first buzz and a Uber back...bitch

I'm six miles up you're lying on your back 
In a six foot hole, bitch, don't get sick
The fuckin' sickness will get ya "Lit, Fam" (suhhhdude) 
It's sicker than sick like a bunch of sittin' ducks in a barrel
Bitch, I give no fucks when I'm slinging mud in the Chevy truck
Dial straight down the middle to collect 1,800 bucks
Invest it in a couple bottles of Thot Chocolate 
And a fleet of chromed-out psychedelic food trucks
To-Grill-A-Party
Yeah, we slingin' them Scooby snacks
A couple hoes & a bottle then we're trippin' to the moon and back

You know the story. You know the fuckin' way
Don't misinterpret what the f*ck I'm trying to say, motherfucker
White bread sandwich, white privledge, white chocolate
Sex and candy - I smell it
I don't wanna hear no more goddamn whinin' and bitchin'
You know I don't drink Brandy, little bitch

I've always been a skinny white _____ with freckles 
Rockin' fly-ass shirts that only cost Five Shekels
Pouring my liquor into a flask and a couple Jars of Clay
Burning flags with D.C. Talk
Outline my body on the levee with some Crayola chalk 
Playing hopscotch with hot Scotch and Irish Car Bombs

War on drugs fueled the war on terror
Two soccer moms caused a five car pile-up
Textin' and drivin', Versace lipstickin' in the mirror
But them titties look tight though
And they got
Out that ticket but the pig keeps stickin' 
His sticky prick inside her Yoga/Pilates vagina
It's hot like Aunt Jemima
Fuckin' whip it
Hangin' out the window while I hit a three-sixty
Hydroplane while I hide your pain
Smokin' O.G. Hydro' thangs 
And I'm still trying to drop three albums by Labor Day, motherfucker

Saturday morning cartoons
Filling up a medical balloon with some hot sauce
Goddamn, I saw the light, boss and I still feel like
It's all a message from the fungus thats among us
You dont gotta believe me, but shit 
I can't stop writing down these stories 
And these wild-ass coincidences that I keep witnessing
Pay attention - pay attention! 
(Say what?) 
Walk out the door before I throw the book at ya 
And drop the fuckin' attitude
Class dismissed

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