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That Ol' Pagan Shit - Doseone Lyrics

By: Admin | Artist: D doseone | Published: 2024-30-09T00:27:44:00+07:00

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lose bitter calling…

once upon a sometime
within the new moons tenderous end frustration boils hot
i can’t seem to find my typical above the rock and through the plains’
empty subliminal survival module i got, seem’s toil misplaced it or
i dropped all my better virtues, judgements and graces earshot displaces
that distorted social per, and embraces hatreds eerie clamour
is the crimson blur, fires, impulse throughout my manner
and disturbs the civil old, k!ll rage stammers through skin, t–th and moralities
begrudging hold upon a causedly clenched hold, heat of moments circ-mstantially
branched from all iotas and proponents of commodius living, incensed, afraid restraint
beings given age of logic, to empty sense and self to some things bidding
yes, your exellency
winning’s speak, save for sinning, while burning homage reeks of sacrificed wills
sitting all ‘a smolder
i feel, the frigid urge to k!ll, mainly for (womb ill?)
still are part of the full experience as the little man inside my delirium
(saved at last)
alas, upon hearing him, and the poison inside thee, i snap
with a malice, unrivalled by intent as that blessed demon leaps forth
un-pent, to flame and bent about the purging of each and every blasphemer meant
to pay for the way grace went or put belief and glory in were or relent
to the centennial ceremonial master sacrament

(now who’s hangin’ the christian?)(4x)

and by all means, and in consequence, not a single infidel is innocent
infact a solemn few have truly lent a voluntary granual of good will unto deliverance
of all unworthy earthly nail through reverance
acknowledgements, deepest darkest chasm, forever swallowing the fiendish
hard-pressed action, drugged from desires, path in oblivion’s intestinal tract
must i spell it out in p-ssion? this is a ceremonial act
suggesting power of a greater maxim, contribute to the help and answers
we justly lack
so stop asking, and don’t rap either, give all this putrid, lowly and hollow a breather
i prayed you’d be an elightened heathen, p-wn or breeder, my neega, little mark conciever
of all powerful spoken word, your captivating silence has now been heard
so grovel, the open ones comes to preserve, this tranquil everything
born about faith, and converge mortality, instincts and mind-states
until one eternal radiant surge of human race
yet, no acclaimed prophet will be so base
thus i’m forced to face the full circle of shame, salvage simply takes to bring forth
devotion, hence within perfections, bittersweet taste
i second inspired carnage and motion, existing no more is your p-ssive hope toxin
as i revert to the physical brutality of forehead unslopen, until pain’s transcendant
with flesh, time and my cast token, fear is commended
while i ravage the unwoken energies once extended in the frail open life tended
fell form of an appendage

(now who’s hangin’ christian)

a kinetic appendage, lets say, dynamically dismembers until all that unfocused vigor’s rendered
inperceptible, your soul it solely stumps, suspended in solace, susceptible to countless tortures
polished t-st-cl-s, new world order, and all it’s metric will only hasten the inevitable cleansing
so enjoy it heretic, you sinners here sick, fledgling, it’s that ol’ pagan sh-t
with a characteristic lyricist, ask uplift twist of avant-garde list
animating what they depict, cause otherwise brisk unyielding wisps of a cathartic mist
are from someone’s god’s ears unto the artist’s lips, your enlightenment’s my only wish
this way of life is everyone’s gift

(now who’s hangin’ christian)(3x)

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