This a new acid sitcom

Far out, psychedelic like wigwam

I get ugly like terminal cancer with the wig on

I'm stranded on witch lock

I'll snatch kids and feed them to pigs like Rick Top

I grip Glocks and pull the gloves over the wrist watch

In a caddy, I'm smoking PF80 with Rick Ross

And listen, for animals this shit is farm food

Drugs I heart you

I lost my fucking yarbles

I visit dumpsites on E, just to see what the hearts do

Can't fuck with molly, we argue

I clap hands and fly ??

Jak Tripper, I'm in the house like suicide by car fumes

I'm in a fake cast for Spanish Fly by a bar stool

Girls, how smart are you

After the head comes off

We can conversate but you'll get in the car too

I'll snatch up discard youth

I'm behind a dead body in my house alone, making the arms move

(Why don't you drink up, Jak, you're falling behind)

(Jak, you don't look so good, maybe we should get out)

I'll open your face with the razor they use to cut carpets up

I missed the show, I was out stalking stars at clubs

Broken pill parts and crumbs

Behind bars like orange jumps

Under the stairs my arms with plugs

Once I'm escorted by my arms in cuffs

It's like I start forming blood

Sex centers need to cart in drugs

I haven't left my apartment once

'Cause I'm already dead inside like Charles Crum

When I park the car they're done

Cut 'em apart to crumbs

In my kitchen and use the garage to dump

Black plastic, black blood splashes

Working hard parts in trunks

More garcon drugs