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