Unbeknown to all he's bewitched by the call
Silent sirens thundering under the Frost
The castration of cause, the menstruation of malls
Meant artificial leisure had seized the lot
And he seeks the fall, excretes what's wrong
A predated maze of what is seen is bought
Simps screamed in box, chips screened his thoughts
Convinced his perception preceded thoughts
Like eternal rhythms, internal wisdoms
A spiraling clockwork of verbal enigmas
His fertile charisma, external vanilla
Building militias with infernal chillpill-a's
What was he supposed to do?
Dab his life like bandicoot?
Cash his check before he had
The chance to ask it what it do?
What was he, What was he, What was he?
What was he, What was he, What was he?
Underneath his prayers and hidden from his praise
Was the glimmering hope that one day he'd faint
Pop a wheelie with fate, skate-escape his Face
Transmute to home-base where the Frost lay away
But the future was now so he muted the sounds
Out of fear that these mutants would neuter his crown
Tutored by hounds on some mystic shit
F*ck the distance kid, you's a Livingston
And a mexican, can he flex again?
The best method operandi just involves a pen
And his fountain pen fresh muse a pound of flesh
He loves the breath so he can worship the breath
Cause he can rap his ass off no matter if the cast on
No matter if the mic off vicious like saigon
One track minded like a cyclops, cyborg
Causing a ruckus like his name was cyclone
At the strike of midnight his subconscious bites
Gives him a sliver of what's bottled inside
What bothers his pride what's swallowed by shine
What sick fantasies he tries to leave behind
And it's swimming up there deep sea diving no cares
So he greets the beast and the beast just stares
Pops a beer pulls up a beach chair
Gets real comfortable like this beach his lair
And he ponders his flair what to do with his flair
And he comes up with something and he slings his snare
And he ponders his flair what to do with his flair
And he comes up with something and he slings his snare
Este - Under the Frost Lyrics
Este - Under the Frost Lyrics
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If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
Unbeknown to all he's bewitched by the call
Silent sirens thundering under the Frost
The castration of cause, the menstruation of malls
Meant artificial leisure had seized the lot
And he seeks the fall, excretes what's wrong
A predated maze of what is seen is bought
Simps screamed in box, chips screened his thoughts
Convinced his perception preceded thoughts
Like eternal rhythms, internal wisdoms
A spiraling clockwork of verbal enigmas
His fertile charisma, external vanilla
Building militias with infernal chillpill-a's
What was he supposed to do?
Dab his life like bandicoot?
Cash his check before he had
The chance to ask it what it do?
What was he, What was he, What was he?
What was he, What was he, What was he?
Underneath his prayers and hidden from his praise
Was the glimmering hope that one day he'd faint
Pop a wheelie with fate, skate-escape his Face
Transmute to home-base where the Frost lay away
But the future was now so he muted the sounds
Out of fear that these mutants would neuter his crown
Tutored by hounds on some mystic shit
F*ck the distance kid, you's a Livingston
And a mexican, can he flex again?
The best method operandi just involves a pen
And his fountain pen fresh muse a pound of flesh
He loves the breath so he can worship the breath
Cause he can rap his ass off no matter if the cast on
No matter if the mic off vicious like saigon
One track minded like a cyclops, cyborg
Causing a ruckus like his name was cyclone
At the strike of midnight his subconscious bites
Gives him a sliver of what's bottled inside
What bothers his pride what's swallowed by shine
What sick fantasies he tries to leave behind
And it's swimming up there deep sea diving no cares
So he greets the beast and the beast just stares
Pops a beer pulls up a beach chair
Gets real comfortable like this beach his lair
And he ponders his flair what to do with his flair
And he comes up with something and he slings his snare
And he ponders his flair what to do with his flair
And he comes up with something and he slings his snare
Silent sirens thundering under the Frost
The castration of cause, the menstruation of malls
Meant artificial leisure had seized the lot
And he seeks the fall, excretes what's wrong
A predated maze of what is seen is bought
Simps screamed in box, chips screened his thoughts
Convinced his perception preceded thoughts
Like eternal rhythms, internal wisdoms
A spiraling clockwork of verbal enigmas
His fertile charisma, external vanilla
Building militias with infernal chillpill-a's
What was he supposed to do?
Dab his life like bandicoot?
Cash his check before he had
The chance to ask it what it do?
What was he, What was he, What was he?
What was he, What was he, What was he?
Underneath his prayers and hidden from his praise
Was the glimmering hope that one day he'd faint
Pop a wheelie with fate, skate-escape his Face
Transmute to home-base where the Frost lay away
But the future was now so he muted the sounds
Out of fear that these mutants would neuter his crown
Tutored by hounds on some mystic shit
F*ck the distance kid, you's a Livingston
And a mexican, can he flex again?
The best method operandi just involves a pen
And his fountain pen fresh muse a pound of flesh
He loves the breath so he can worship the breath
Cause he can rap his ass off no matter if the cast on
No matter if the mic off vicious like saigon
One track minded like a cyclops, cyborg
Causing a ruckus like his name was cyclone
At the strike of midnight his subconscious bites
Gives him a sliver of what's bottled inside
What bothers his pride what's swallowed by shine
What sick fantasies he tries to leave behind
And it's swimming up there deep sea diving no cares
So he greets the beast and the beast just stares
Pops a beer pulls up a beach chair
Gets real comfortable like this beach his lair
And he ponders his flair what to do with his flair
And he comes up with something and he slings his snare
And he ponders his flair what to do with his flair
And he comes up with something and he slings his snare
Writer: Este
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid