Lyrics:
Woken up from a dream
From of dull memory
Hidden rules
Packrat
Stray germs
Measuring
Tesseract
Quickening
Discovery, I'm worried
Just me
Woken up from a dream form of dull memory
Hidden rules packrat
Stray germs measuring
Tesseract quickening
Discovery, I'm worried
Just me or does it
to grasp at?
Your class can’t even fit in a casket
I’m proud to be a packrat
Now your crap gets questioned
You’re just a mascot
Not really that fashioned
But
a packrat
I'm not a junkman
Does that mean i should be judged by those who take it with them?
A shiny thing a shiny thing a shiny thing
Like a bauble
luggage mothafucka, i'm a packrat
I'll flip that like the mattress at the hotel i been stayin at
Patrick bateman on a bitch, she bleedin where she tinkle
nonflat
Straight half, snapback
Combat, packrat
Hard hat, suck that
I would do anything to get a bitch back
I would rap another battle 'gainst another
And I'mma catch the packrats
Who keep on talkin way back
Talkin back yeah
And runnin' they mouth
Since the day we started off
Since the day we started off
I
snapped at because my head's like a packrat habitat
Then snapped at because I got snapped at
Then I laugh randomly in tandem with this voice
Because I'm
not married to a bloodbath
Got gear on my chest like a packrat
No fear when we're here we can lack that
Then I hear clicks near like a hi-hat
Better
you think so
A desert sunrise
To which I close my weary eyes
Sleep in the day
Live life through the night
Scalding sunrise
Burning my eyes
I'm a packrat
collective runs deeper than packrat with a trash bag
You failin’ to snap at me like the app lagged
The way I put these words together its like I rapped in
name it must be talked around
For God is an avoidant.
And Man was charged to make up terms
To tell the wyverns from the worms,
The packrats from
snapchat
Lose it on that app
Done and I pass that
Start shit just to drop it and mask that
Held up resentment like packrats
Now we need some space or sum
selling Now and Laters for a quarter a piece?
That's right!
Woo-ha!
Venice Beach prophets and the pack-rat freaks
They wanna preach the first amendment but
that (A-whoa)
I ain't with the chit-chat (Nah)
Send my shooters where your house at
(You what?)
Boy, you a lil' packrat, wait, ooh
(A-whoa, a-Dexter)
beach, motherfucker
Blap-blap copperhead Church
Go and show me where the mice at
I'm digestin' my enemies just
Like a fuckin' packrat
Huckleberry skin
a flapjack
Got caught with the work and snitched, you a packrat
I do this shit for the chips, this a Rapsnack
I be preaching through these bars I'm on a higher
some damn fools
Don’tchu know to do that type of
Dirt down at the sand dunes?’
Disrespectful vandals, prepubescent packrats
One plus two equals a crew
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