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Throwback Thursdays

by Baby Jayne

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1.
Chorus: "Heart of a martyr, instincts of a primate / Born to lose, there will be no divine fate / Designed blind, heart quakes, grey matter aches / Landmine mindstate" Verse 1: "Back in the grind state of mind, not a pretty sight / If love won't save me, I hope some pity might / Shitty nights, days are dark and devastating / Lost, linger in limbo, levitating, call it Heaven's Gate-ing / In bed, debating, waiting, skating on a thin sheet of ice / Berating how grating this life has made my pipes / Autonomous, relating to animal instincts of pythons / Kill for sport, still report, I sleep with the lights on / Right wrongs? nah, write songs 'cause it's cheap therapy / Family shoveled shit instead of heaping care on me / Apparently there was supposed to be a pair of me / Parasitic twin still haunts my dreams and I bet she's scared of me too / Swear that it's true, the world won't house one of me / Even I'm done with me, couldn't fathom that redundancy / Of wasted carbon, tissue fat, flirt with death, won't kiss me back / Throw another whiskey back, and what you get? you get this track" Verse 2: "Back in that 'fuck you, pay me' mentality / Paulie in Goodfellas, homie, you ain't no pal to me / I'll give nothing, ribs touching, bluffing like I've got pocket aces / No support system, Pop was faceless then ancient history / Your sympathy won't keep the roof over my head / Why lie? the way I'm living's proof that I'm dead / Poof! what I say is magic, smoke screens and sleight of hand / My man reaches out to feed me and I bite his hand / We're all dying, man, but I've already crossed over / Unlucky charms, bloody rabbit feet and lost clovers / You can't control her, whether drunk, high, or sober / My sight - it goes in and out - near, far - Grover / Grade school gloom, hipster of this depression shit / Depressing wit can't save, nor can artistic skill that's excellent / I make you cry as often as laugh, and you should smirk / I'm already dead, the embalmers just do good work"
2.
Verse 1: "Baby's back to bang these bars, everywhere - that's where we are / Feathered, tarred, wearing scars, stars and stripes, very hard / Not to carry on, buried Mary very long ago / Put a marker farther on down the road (down the road) / Every word I utter is an echo of an echo / But I will never settle, and I will never let go / Retro, spent throat, gas me up like petrol / Get rid of me? you must be kidding me, hell no / Hello to a new day, damn, that was a great night / Move like a conquistador, make love, take life / Hand gripped on a steak knife, filet you like a pretty cut / Is Jaynie out her freaking, fracking mind? yeah, pretty much / Spilling blood, spitting writtens on this, that, and such and such / My flow's ugly as trannies who don't tuck their nuts - yuck / Shucks, thank all you motherfuckers for the accolades / And got help any bitch on the mic who comes after me" Chorus: "Face - daggers / Based, swagger / Winehouse, Whitney / Cobain, Jagger / Celebrity sugar high / Til we vomit / What's the name of this one? / All swag, no content" Verse 2: "Rap like it could save my life, hoping for the opposite / Somewhere I know Pop is pissed, look at me, no pot to piss / No window to throw it out of, without love / Life is an unfitting bloody glove, word to Orenthal / Pour it on a little thicker, kick of liquor coursing through / Every vein and tissue, bliss due, kiss you / On the lips and hips too, ooh, do you like that? / I fell of the beat a little bit, huh? I'll be right back / Right track, wrong train, right drug, wrong vein / Song's plain as day 'cause dreaming is a drain / Imagination is for children, I'm a real life villain / Killing beats by K.Mack.G. of Maxabillion West / Still I'm blessed, tongue's swollen, lungs folding / Fingers frozen, slipping from the rung I'm holding onto / Aren't you cute, rhyming yet another chapter? / Just what the world needs: another common rapper"

credits

released January 1, 1999

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Baby Jayne Sterling, Illinois

Visual art + raps. Fat jokes. Nintendo. Hugs. Booty. Your Dad. That's about it.

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