Wrestling With Dragons - Timothy Gurshin

How can you feel this bad? Eyes dead in the shower space The signs of going mad Are they mine? Have they got here? With no job but a million results Eyes shut so they turn off There's no hope, no sign of luck But I'm wrong, am I wrong? Yes, I'm wrong So don't filter me Don't feel Johnny and Chin, we abused the last drop Oh, for God's sake, can we drive any faster? Don't say that your life ain't turning 'round Don't say that your life ain't turning Going past seven, oh the last drop It's the same, God's sake, can we drive any faster? Don't say that your life ain't turning 'round Don't say that your life ain't turning 'round Just when you're feeling far Tuesday, it screams no luck Sat in the back of a car Tell me why, why it takes time Headfirst as you block the noise Midweek lull, paradise But there's hope, there's signs of life I'm not wrong, I'm not wrong, I'm not wrong Johnny and Chin, we abused the last drop Oh, for God's sake, can we drive any faster? Don't say that your life ain't turning 'round Don't say that your life ain't turning Going past seven, oh the last drop It's the same, God's sake, can we drive any faster? Don't say that your life ain't turning 'round Don't say that your life ain't turning 'round That your life ain't turning 'round Don't feel Johnny and Chin, we abused the last drop Oh, for God's sake, can we drive any faster? Don't say that your life ain't turning 'round Don't say that your life ain't turning Going past seven, oh the last drop It's the same, God's sake, can we drive any faster? Don't tell me your life ain't turning 'round Don't tell me your life ain't turning 'round

It's a cold putt garden George talks of starting He wears red green yellow tartan And let's me out Cause I hate your friends I hate your friends I hate your friends I hate your friends We sat down And we're smiling Your circle expanding Your eyes tear from laughing But I'm not proud And I'm so sad Cause I need to be And I'm so long down And I'm so long down And I'm so sad Cause I need to be And I'm so long down And I'm so long down

Life on the rocks Too hard to swallow So we get high till it feel like the sky low Ya'll boys just a bunch of pussy cats, Milo Money is the song Pockets on high note Do Re Mi Fa So I rock like a fossil Big boss shit, Paul Castellano Shoot your ass up, now crawl out the condo That's that nine nigga ughh, Rondo Sleeping with the enemy, so I fuck the world To Miss Louise Anna, the sweetest southern girl The sweetest southern girl, sweetest southern girl This is times up Put your signs up Made 'em pick my dude Out the line-up Baby what the fuck wrong, wrong with them What the fuck wrong, wrong with them You see many are called But very few are chosen Looking at the wall You can feel them close in Baby what the fuck wrong, wrong with them What the fuck wrong, wrong with them Mind over matter, money over all The world is on my shoulders Should I dust my shoulders off Uzi rat-a-tatter, knocking over walls Fuck the bullshit but just don't fuck it raw Man pussy has a pattern and I know where I'm going And if you got beef I turn it to a tenderloin Sanity kills so I live the crazy life I wonder if they'll pay attention if I change the price Life is my wife, till death do us part Man I'm fly as fuck, you ain't even next to depart Quick draw McGraw, I hope you like art This is 'times up" Put your signs up Made 'em pick my dude Out the line-up Baby what the fuck wrong, wrong with them What the fuck wrong, wrong with them You see many are called But, very few are chosen Looking at the wall You can feel 'em close in Baby what the fuck wrong, wrongwith them What the fuck is wrong with them Stepping on the bullshit, you can be my doormat Y'all ain't going nowhere with that hating shit, four flat Disrespectful on the beat, Borat Fuck the system and the pussy wasn't all that Yeah, now time's getting shorter Red Light on your head like a fucking recorder now Don't you cross me, you do better crossing the border So much money piled up, I'm a mother fuckin' hoarder... Ugh This is 'time's up' Put your signs up Made 'em pick my dude Out the line-up Baby what the fuck wrong, wrong with them What the fuck wrong, wrong with them You see many are called But, very few are chosen Looking at the wall You can feel them close in Baby what the fucking wrong, wrong with them What the fuck wrong, wrong with them