Womp's Fortress

from by cunabear

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lyrics

(Say hi to moms for me I'm swimming out to sea)

The flamingo tattoo on my arm covers up these mangled inner body parts
Like a patch on a broken soul, clean shaven on the sides
Used to laugh and fancy his older man a soul patch

One day he'd grow a bolder back
One day he'd hold a bowl to pack and watch his fingers park the sun on a conveyor belt with non-stop strange vibrations

Thank god we've all grown blacker as a nation

Food for (white people) keeps some dogs lost without a trail to sniff
We used to riot in the streets now we let the introverts study poetic text and continue trying drying lips to water already slipped between the cracks in my skin

And down into the endless abyss just like religious texts predicted
Not a plate left unbroken in the kitchen
(Nobody's home)

Curved dancers like a million little tendrils waving gently at the ceiling fan with their whole body expressing communion through dance while imps are prancing up the bohdi trees
Picking wompa fruit from the twigs and leaves

Then disregard the fruit itself
Known only purpose useful to see the home grow
Watch the orchard flourish in the blink of an eye
And no matter what you believe when that nigga Jesus comes you'd best be off to testify than face the fire

I find peace in helping my homies eat
One less corpse found in the street
In the end we stay okay, okay?

Feast your eyes on the display
We work for what we've got
We don't got much but we're okay, okay?

A boy
A bear
An insecure awkward golem with moss for hair and simple cares gets pulled out by the shifting tides and buried out at sea
Underwater he fosters fish who flee from following their fellows

I find peace in helping my homies eat
One less corpse found in the street
In the end we stay okay, okay?

Feast your eyes on the display
We work for what we've got
We don't got much but we're okay, okay?

I place myself vehemently upon the highest rung
Just clinging onto the bar for comfort
Taste the wind that slightly alters my balance
At the junction where my heart began to miss your lungs, and how they stress and relax

With no gumption

I caught myself overthinking small lectures given in the underpass
Refusing to let the tantalizing parts of you persuade me to cause an uproar

Cause who knows what'll happen when I flip this
Switch

My heart aches
My thought hurts
My fingers twitch
My loins itch

What would an abomination like me do on an island where nothing but freetime is how you draw the line

I've never been one to start fires
I roll up in solitude
Not to smoke but to watch the lighters spark
I love the heat produced beneath my thumbs as I imagine what's become of innocence

Perceived as lost but more re-appropriated

Chronicles of a hip-hop hippie who writes raps mostly to play taps on the bars of the cell from the outside with underlying pride

What's a bride to a self-defined corpse
In Corpus Christi I learned how to build walls of love around my tiny fort
Shit's mad impressive isn't it?

I wanna sit upon the highest rung
On purpose

Reminder
The remainder of this tour is to adjust my future focus
Not to focus on the future, but I'm scared
These sacred texts won't commit to comment on the hocus-pocus that evokes me to provide closeness to the priestess

I feed my homies well of that semi-potent patronage
Right before I slip off the edge

credits

from m00kie, released June 30, 2017

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about

cunabear Savannah, Georgia

Patron Saint of Patron Saints.

Jazzy, lascivious, psychedelic rap.

EPK: beartoothcollective.wixsite.com/cunabear

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