slain jane ft. AYGR Lyrics

A slain Jane Doe remains unidentified

As my hands draw weary

And my eyes get tired

And the tightness in my belly but my thoughts are still dancing

Perfection begs the question I hope I make up an answer

Open the copacabana

Who shot who

It's like Dallas

Or when Maggie shot mr burns

A 2 part saga

Sippin saki and the water

Kawasaki

Hopin they allow me to speak easy about the saki

Make me fuckin Ralph like the branded jockey and the hand me downs

Got a hole in the pocket but I make it fit

And then I make a fit out of it

Boutta throw a fit

Make em kick me out the bitch

Sayin yes without thinking about the consequence

The wise mans tongue worth a morsel inside a lions den

As the Mayans dance

Deciding on a day that the world is slated to end

Planned demolition thousand years in advance

Ambiguous clothes with no brands

And when it gets cold

You the winter comes ain't taking no chance

Stock up with bottles and cans

A carcass strewn on the land

Can't imagine the carnage and can't imagine the damage

A slain Jane Doe remains unidentified

As my hands draw weary

And my eyes get tired

And the tightness in my belly but my thoughts still dancing

Perfection begs the question I hope I make up an answer

A slain Jane Doe remains unidentified

As my hands draw weary

And my eyes get tired

And the tightness in my belly but my thoughts still dancing

Perfection begs the question I hope I make up an answer

Can't you see?

Poetry in motion but I freeze

Scolded by the coldest got the notion I should leave

Emotive til I folded and it left just like the breeze

No more rollers everybody left the party gotta breathe

I said a slain Jane doe remains unidentifiable

A victim of the night but the darkness couldn't be liable

Nah

This is a mans work

And by the bruises on her body I bet this hands hurt

Tiny dancer

Can't imagine her last thoughts

Just another fuckin problem that's gonna go unresolved

As I write to you this letter I sit with ink and quill

How much blood must spill before I stop sitting still

A plain Jane Doe remains unidentified

As my hands draw weary

And my eyes get tired

And the tightness in my belly but my thoughts still dancing

Perfection begs the question I hope I make up an answer