Wisdumb - Blinking Lights (Heaven's on Fire) Lyrics

Swallow the heaven in the back of your throat
Stop bitching 'bout music, smoke, pass it and blow
Gravitate to gravitas, gyrate and carry on
Marry on merit, don't frown upon the setting sun
Harried in its heyday, can't really stomach
If heaven's on fire, wasn't ever heaven was it?
Getting bludgeoned, getting stoned, on a roll, oh God
No green, no moss, mo money no mas
Lookin at you post-op, and low cost at that
Case of the 'Casey's,' at bat with a fat ass
No room for innovation in a new generation
Hearts racing in the basement of your mom and pop's estate
It's heinous, vagrants collect and coalesce
Looking out the window with a rolled up cigarette
Hold up, big arrest, yo you solved the problem
Clinging to a scheme, getting dragged across the bottom

And we don't give one, two, three, or four fucks
'Bout whose in the bathroom blowing Daddy Warbucks
Whore-cunts or bourgeois, we the bourgeoisie
Cutting people's heads off with our money

Hipsters blasting heavy metal and heavy meddling
Peddling Jeppeto's strings, wrists tied, looking menacing
Brandishing henna tattoos, stomping black boots
Grabbing fat boobs, dude, I'm looking at you
Half screwed little rascals don't know how to say "No"
Foo Fighters complain, played out by LMFAO
Adele takes home the Grammy, can relate to being homely, can't we?
And she says she's 'proud,' but honestly who owns the stocks?
When her album cover's photoshopped
And it's going, gone, want to sell a million copies
Bitch about the state of music to indie fucking jockeys
Or rap super fast over The Radio Department
But look at the cards flipped, what's a hooker to a harlot?
Darling, I go hard in the motherfucking paint
Burn this town to the ground, get arrested by the state
But wait, the state's me, I'm stately
Don't hate, don't play free, I'm great
Gee Willickers, if you didn't heard I'm grilling herbs like steaks 'B'
Hazy, like weed smoke, and amigos dropping pesos
So lace those Nikes, I'm God, gon' go fuck Keira Knightly
Nightly, so knight me, she's British right 'B'?
Talking over a Dilla beat, It's killing me, inside
Nod to all the hip-hop heads that ride jocks
Got more gin than Qui-Gon...

Swallow the heaven in the back of your throat
Stop bitching 'bout music, smoke, pass it and blow
Gravitate to gravitas, gyrate and carry on
Marry on merit don't frown upon the setting sun
Harried in its heyday, can't really stomach
If heaven's on fire wasn't ever heaven was it?
If heaven's on fire wasn't ever heaven was it?
If heaven's on fire wasn't ever heaven was it...