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about

staring at the end of the winter
the creepin' paranoia
i dont kill my demons
im a sinner, file a FOIA
feelin blessed with the smoke in my chest
but cant rest
I'm a mess with a microphone trying to crest
and just driving on
a sisyphian effort
im Camus if he's wild
oughta live in the desert
feelin life is unreal and wonderin what i had hit
I been sick for fuckin' years the insurance aint shit
but people pay 'cause the president is checkin' a list
and the basics of the governments a swing of the fist
im really tired a lot
moderating all my vices i cop
got to cope, getting low on the stock
just another thing to juggle in a country thats a jungle
every predator is pushin' the poor to rent rubble
get jobs that we sorta been glued
to how capital moves
the low cash everybodyll lose

im sitting in a car
parked sippin' gin and staring at the stars
start feelin the beat of my heart
feeling the heat of your breath
feeling the cold on my arms
thinkin' im needing some rest
knowing the wicked dont get it yet
I'm probably too far gone
sittin and staring at the stars
start feelin the beat of my heart
feeling the heat of your breath
feeling the cold on my arms
thinkin' im needing some rest
...but the wicked dont get it yet


staring at the start of spring
shakey sight and cant blink
bloodshot eyes
blood hot high i cant think
i just crashed
now that the euphorias gone
im on the anniversary of when a friend had been lost
how to balance the fabric of life
define by death
and not slip into the habit of chemical tinged breath
is it hedonism or a convenience i expect
my heads wrecked like a ghost ship slamemd in a deck
i mean
i can go cain if im able
in the land of nod
the beat knocks
its no fable
each thoughts
like how to survive with no paper
and fuck cops
its kind of a flaw
i sought danger
hit both locks
and put a gun by the bed
deep breaths
trying not to want it pressed to my head
lifes a curse
but we've touch something wonderous here
an eternal pessimist
convinced im seeing it clear

trust me
im here where everyone is
just being angry doesnt do shit
gotta have something inside your tool kit
just being angry doesnt do shit
just being angry doesnt do shit

credits

from Rat God Vol. 1, released April 14, 2019

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Johnny Panic Pensacola, Florida

Florida riot rap. Crown crusher/ Void spitter.

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Featuring Riley Pinkerton (aka The Rat Queen) from the theatrical NYC rockers, Castle Rat.
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