Camp Fire

By Bill Waves

On Vagrant

Released on April 15, 2014

7K Views

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[Intro: Bill]

Yeah

Ahem

Yeah


[Verse 1: Bill]

You don't got bars that drop, hard to hit

Neighborhood pharmacist

Jarrin' up this haze in the shade to rock cardigans

Center starter, better get your starters sparkin'

It's lemon scented, it started to spend a trend

In the parks of a very tended

I started with every pen then I'm on this shit

Late night faze through these tenements and darker sins

I'm not startin' with rappers, I'm black Mortus

Smack your fuckin' ass hard as the glass of the backboard, and

I'm back for them, see his ass tour and laugh more

If I'm not havin' fun, what the fuck am I writin' raps for?

I'm the last chord, plug it

I'm comin' with nothin' but this fuckin' rugged shit, I'm that floored

I'm a nuisance, I do this, I've been fluent

But the sin of [?] ruin where I been, I been movin'

Ten-for-ten rudest, villain of the park

Give some sense to 'em, pillar of the art


[Interlude: Mac Miller]

Yeah, yeah

Some Point Breeze shit, you know?

Ahem


[Verse 2: Mac Miller]

Yeah, a little speed and tequila lead me to beat-makin'

Was my intention to walk that led to freebasin'

Spend a few too many thousand wasted eBay-in'

Watch the trust fall, that's team-buildin' exercises

It's Fuck Everybody Enterprises

You always ten feet ahead, but just a step behind us

I guess I'm fine with lettin' me choose the devil I get to sign with

You wet vaginas, these rappers are softer than fresh bouq' Iris

Obsessed with violence, weapons on deck like dead pirates

Haven't found God yet, the closest that I get is silence

It's never quiet, Satan dwell inside their briefcases

I'm glad we made it, now I'm thankful I'm a free agent

Fresh out of prison, throw the deuces up like Nixon

Tell me, what's the difference 'tween wisdom and superstition?

We just civilians, the villains kiss the infants

Ain't no such thing as coincidence, shit


[Verse 3: Ab-Soul]

Yeah, we smokin' stupid blunts, but my thoughts ain't dumb

I got ninety-nine problems but a thot ain't one, uh

All my bitches bisexual and bilingual

I got a bible and a rifle, God, I'm evil

To all these common people, yeah, the heat is brewin'

Kinda like summer school for a UCLA student

That's always true and, yeah, I'm on a roll

This is special education for the honor roll

I'm kinda throwed, like softballs in a league of their own

I've been the shit since I could piss on my own

You just a toilet bowl, a foil in the microwave

You don't be-long like short film casting calls

Throw your life away

We got that coke that don't get you up in 6-Flags "Roller Coaster Fast Pass"

That's Ab-Soul; don't forget the dash, ho

Put your butt on this, no hunnid-yard dash, though


[Outro: Ab-Soul]

Soul