Inferno
๐ต 1597 characters
โฑ๏ธ 3:00 duration
๐ ID: 5940508
๐ Lyrics
(No!)
It's The Buttress, the retarded artist (no!)
AKA "The White Devil" (oh, God, no!)
Sitting listening to crickets in the thicket, candyflipping
I'm a wicked, disheveled, white devil
I'm a wannabe phenomenology prodigy reveling in suffering through self-induced anxiety
With drugs to try me
My body is work, but imma pursue it
Cause I'm ruder than Buddha
Sip witches brew and get nude, giving 'tude to Judah
Ain't nobody truer, get more enlightened with each stroke of lightning'
If it's frightening, then Buttress say, "Do it!"
Do I gotta read Ephesians to these heathens?
Chapter 2 verse 8, "For by grace you have been saved, not by works, through faith"
So don't grieve your reason, believe in what The Buttress speaking
She say to make way to the diurnal Inferno
Enter circles with Virgil, Mother Nature's infertile
I burst forth from the abdomen of scorched earth
The birth of a madwoman
I'm an artist starving, static charges
Exit fingertips through blue mist to touch lips and take trips
I'm blunted like rubber tips
Shipful of hits of acid taken in the past, but I'm still fucking blasted, classic
I'm fucking dramatic (yo, where the fuck are we?)
I don't think we passed it, keep going
Trekking to Mecca, my internal vendetta
Is to wreck my perspective, resurrect it
We getting higher to die, purified through the fire
Through trials I go, if I survive, take me to green isles
Otherwise kiss my eyelids closed
This is the road I chose, I roam alone
(Rejected) I hate the way my vision's oscillating
Guide no longer by my side, I'm too high
Neglected, I sit waiting (reflecting)
It's The Buttress, the retarded artist (no!)
AKA "The White Devil" (oh, God, no!)
Sitting listening to crickets in the thicket, candyflipping
I'm a wicked, disheveled, white devil
I'm a wannabe phenomenology prodigy reveling in suffering through self-induced anxiety
With drugs to try me
My body is work, but imma pursue it
Cause I'm ruder than Buddha
Sip witches brew and get nude, giving 'tude to Judah
Ain't nobody truer, get more enlightened with each stroke of lightning'
If it's frightening, then Buttress say, "Do it!"
Do I gotta read Ephesians to these heathens?
Chapter 2 verse 8, "For by grace you have been saved, not by works, through faith"
So don't grieve your reason, believe in what The Buttress speaking
She say to make way to the diurnal Inferno
Enter circles with Virgil, Mother Nature's infertile
I burst forth from the abdomen of scorched earth
The birth of a madwoman
I'm an artist starving, static charges
Exit fingertips through blue mist to touch lips and take trips
I'm blunted like rubber tips
Shipful of hits of acid taken in the past, but I'm still fucking blasted, classic
I'm fucking dramatic (yo, where the fuck are we?)
I don't think we passed it, keep going
Trekking to Mecca, my internal vendetta
Is to wreck my perspective, resurrect it
We getting higher to die, purified through the fire
Through trials I go, if I survive, take me to green isles
Otherwise kiss my eyelids closed
This is the road I chose, I roam alone
(Rejected) I hate the way my vision's oscillating
Guide no longer by my side, I'm too high
Neglected, I sit waiting (reflecting)
โฑ๏ธ Synced Lyrics
[00:15.61] (No!)
[00:19.47] It's The Buttress, the retarded artist (no!)
[00:23.81] AKA "The White Devil" (oh, God, no!)
[00:28.07] Sitting listening to crickets in the thicket, candyflipping
[00:31.33] I'm a wicked, disheveled, white devil
[00:33.88] I'm a wannabe phenomenology prodigy reveling in suffering through self-induced anxiety
[00:38.62] With drugs to try me
[00:41.15] My body is work, but imma pursue it
[00:43.52] Cause I'm ruder than Buddha
[00:45.11] Sip witches brew and get nude, giving 'tude to Judah
[00:48.17] Ain't nobody truer, get more enlightened with each stroke of lightning'
[00:52.16] If it's frightening, then Buttress say, "Do it!"
[00:53.95] Do I gotta read Ephesians to these heathens?
[00:56.61] Chapter 2 verse 8, "For by grace you have been saved, not by works, through faith"
[01:00.58] So don't grieve your reason, believe in what The Buttress speaking
[01:04.52] She say to make way to the diurnal Inferno
[01:07.20] Enter circles with Virgil, Mother Nature's infertile
[01:09.93] I burst forth from the abdomen of scorched earth
[01:12.72] The birth of a madwoman
[01:15.62]
[01:39.07] I'm an artist starving, static charges
[01:42.39] Exit fingertips through blue mist to touch lips and take trips
[01:45.91] I'm blunted like rubber tips
[01:47.81] Shipful of hits of acid taken in the past, but I'm still fucking blasted, classic
[01:53.23] I'm fucking dramatic (yo, where the fuck are we?)
[01:56.12] I don't think we passed it, keep going
[01:57.71] Trekking to Mecca, my internal vendetta
[02:00.20] Is to wreck my perspective, resurrect it
[02:02.87] We getting higher to die, purified through the fire
[02:05.87] Through trials I go, if I survive, take me to green isles
[02:09.84] Otherwise kiss my eyelids closed
[02:11.92] This is the road I chose, I roam alone
[02:14.38] (Rejected) I hate the way my vision's oscillating
[02:17.91] Guide no longer by my side, I'm too high
[02:20.62] Neglected, I sit waiting (reflecting)
[02:26.35]
[00:19.47] It's The Buttress, the retarded artist (no!)
[00:23.81] AKA "The White Devil" (oh, God, no!)
[00:28.07] Sitting listening to crickets in the thicket, candyflipping
[00:31.33] I'm a wicked, disheveled, white devil
[00:33.88] I'm a wannabe phenomenology prodigy reveling in suffering through self-induced anxiety
[00:38.62] With drugs to try me
[00:41.15] My body is work, but imma pursue it
[00:43.52] Cause I'm ruder than Buddha
[00:45.11] Sip witches brew and get nude, giving 'tude to Judah
[00:48.17] Ain't nobody truer, get more enlightened with each stroke of lightning'
[00:52.16] If it's frightening, then Buttress say, "Do it!"
[00:53.95] Do I gotta read Ephesians to these heathens?
[00:56.61] Chapter 2 verse 8, "For by grace you have been saved, not by works, through faith"
[01:00.58] So don't grieve your reason, believe in what The Buttress speaking
[01:04.52] She say to make way to the diurnal Inferno
[01:07.20] Enter circles with Virgil, Mother Nature's infertile
[01:09.93] I burst forth from the abdomen of scorched earth
[01:12.72] The birth of a madwoman
[01:15.62]
[01:39.07] I'm an artist starving, static charges
[01:42.39] Exit fingertips through blue mist to touch lips and take trips
[01:45.91] I'm blunted like rubber tips
[01:47.81] Shipful of hits of acid taken in the past, but I'm still fucking blasted, classic
[01:53.23] I'm fucking dramatic (yo, where the fuck are we?)
[01:56.12] I don't think we passed it, keep going
[01:57.71] Trekking to Mecca, my internal vendetta
[02:00.20] Is to wreck my perspective, resurrect it
[02:02.87] We getting higher to die, purified through the fire
[02:05.87] Through trials I go, if I survive, take me to green isles
[02:09.84] Otherwise kiss my eyelids closed
[02:11.92] This is the road I chose, I roam alone
[02:14.38] (Rejected) I hate the way my vision's oscillating
[02:17.91] Guide no longer by my side, I'm too high
[02:20.62] Neglected, I sit waiting (reflecting)
[02:26.35]