Music: Sexton; Lyrics: Hexum/Martinez. Talkin shit like shut up and listen to me. Because cutting through the crap is my speciality. Like a bomb I'm dropping yes a ton of lead. You're trying to figure out the last thing I said. I'm a redwood I love to be a tree yes I'm a druid. My words are flowing out like a fluid. Never give in never conform. I'll be bustin' out rhymes in a triplet form. Dead leaves on the trees in spring. Can't hear the birds sing. A light powdered snow on the ground is glistening. Vipers slither atop a colder ground they quiver. A crack in the sky snow is falling and inside we shiver. While I doze I suppose I could get lost. With a brownskin friend claiming kin to crazy horse. I stink of vino my greasy clothes are rancid but. I tip the bottle back the spirits are in me kid. Fire water call it liquid rapture. Into the flash and flames of my crazy nature. Fire water the world's a mixture. Of broken liquored people get the picture. Fire water call it liquid rapture. Into the flash and flames of my crazy nature. Fire water the world's a mixture. Of broken liquored people get the picture. Whiskey be spittle at the corners of my mouth. I'm rather liquored light flickers. I got the shakes and jitters. I roll I'm like raging bull bumrushin' the show. Hand to my head sway in the fire I've waded into. All alone except for the whiskey voices. Whores laught neon signs flash other choices. I stagger stumble to toast the past while I mumble. Slur my song slow porno show marquee words crumble. Fire water call it liquid rapture. Into the flash and flames of my crazy nature. Fire water the world's a mixture. Of broken liquored people get the picture. Fire water call it liquid rapture. Into the flash and flames of my crazy nature. Fire water the world's a mixture. Of broken liquored people get the picture. You're hangin' around the house with all your friends. Steady drinking smoking the green weed. And head is sort of blinking. You're going with the flow. And everybody is getting plowed. The voices and the music and the noise is getting loud. You got a heavy buzz on when seven o'clock rolls around. So you piule inside the clunker start heading downtown. Only nineteen but you know where you can get it. So you slide inside the bar and everything is hitting. By about eleven o'clock your brain is near dead. You really can't remember who was the one that said. Let's go into the bathroom and meet this guy Chuck. He's got a thirty dollar white powder pick me up. Ten minutes later the whole vibe had changed. You try for conversation. But you know you're acting strange. Your eyes are wide open but your smile is gone. You just keep fiending 'til the fucking break of dawn. Vipers slither atop a colder ground they quiver. A crack in the sky snow is falling and inside we shiver. While I doze I suppose.