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The Spider Possum (feat. Nacirema)

from Satan's on His Way & He Wants His Drugs by Touch A.C. x Filthy Rich

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lyrics

Mellow Mephistopheles coolin’ on a Tuesday; chillin’, kickin’ parables – they’re terrible but true. Bonafide bloodlust, appetite doomsday; get your fuckin’ mind blown, they call him “Touch Toupe.” Where I sleep, we shake the spiders from our shoes before we wear ‘em. Wake and bake ritual, welcome the people starin’. I get stoned like Sharon, it’s written in the tablets and I don’t feel like sharin’ this inheritance or mattress. Slide forth with a head like a hole; recitin’ Bible verses backwards, real slow. No time to waste saving face with these hoes, I’m posted in the opium den with three crows. Third eye pukin’ a hadoken on some weird shit then go Scott Summers meet Wolverine – fearless. Killin’ spree logic, waste ‘em based on just appearance and I pray to fuckin’ God that my mom never hears this. Shootin’ for a pass around a semi-stable star, an amalgam of bourbon, resin hits, and tar. These pussies actin’ mangrown ain’t seen a Winter harsh so I’m back from the dead loadin’ Loud in cigars. Manticore-fest destiny, Touch Hierophant –styrofoam cup in one hand, I’m trying to drive with it. Despite the odds, standin’ on piles of smashed idols cause it’s viral (yes) and vital to the environment.

NACIREMA

[ Now, I’ve seen a lot of things in my day, my friend – but how does one summarize facin’ the end? And how does one come alive, evasive again, when it’s hard to find grace in the face of a friend? Rick Flair chest slap; crowd yellin’ “Woooo” – empowerment bowin’ out with cowardice in pursuit. Get the fuck outta here, Wedge, ain’t shit that you can do; I’ve got a case of the Tuesdays, I’m afraid to face the truth. ]

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from Satan's on His Way & He Wants His Drugs, released June 21, 2014

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Touch A.C. Louisville, Kentucky

Woke up in escape pod. Unsure of year. Must rap.

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