Too Much

Blue collar to corporate blessed the unfortunate<br>Like when I put my foot down that bitch still aborted it<br>Stuck the canister under my jacket like the lucky one<br>`Uh, sir you can`t leave with that,` Bitch this my fucking son!<br>Put with the gun crammed in the glovebox<br>With 151 drum bottles, I don`t drink, they gettin` flung<br>With lit rags in it, kill 10 step-dads a minute<br>Still won`t be a star till the label as a gimmick<br>Even if I limit timid com-mi-tive cynics<br>Each one famous suicide at gunpoint to mimic<br>You too can be a mock-celeb or the last there is<br>Or be ghost like money that played Casper in kids<br>I put a sick twist every other frame design so<br>You see AIDS victims selling pretzels at a slideshow<br>With a nine shown I brand and skin `em<br>Run out of punchlines when you kids stop standin` in `em<br><br>[Chorus]<br>Yo Chris I think they think you know too much<br>Yeah Sis I think you put coke up your nose too much<br>They cut my hands off so I couldn`t hold too much<br>They try to kill me through my dick with these hoes too much<br>You stack dough too much<br>You smack hoes too much<br>Well you can blame it on the mint leaves I roll too much<br>They cut my hands off so I couldn`t hold too much<br>Don`t stand off, bullet holes show too much<br><br>They see weed on dust with an ounce a pound<br>Is like jumping out of building grabbing napkins on the way down<br>My impant I scarred, I`m anti-star<br>Though I shine like one buried underground with yall<br>And I tried to learn good just wasn`t concerned, should<br>I really be on my sixth bottle of wormwood<br>My skin is burnin` blisternin` aloe ow<br>Dragged this big fat bitch in to see Shallow Hal<br>I drink Jack puff black in Orange County<br>Bought a gun with a body to stick in this whore`s Audi<br>Knew this kid Craze he would stick dope on a chick open ha`<br>Then I changed my name to Cage like Nick Coppola<br>All these snakes with these forked tongues stitched together<br>After I put down the pepper I switch the weather<br>Whatever rights they want to shrug off for safety feelin` taken<br>For a Rabbi appearance cuz they kneelin` to Satan<br><br>[Chorus]<br><br>Then, I stepped over the bloody axe frame with wax fame<br>Rogue pistol runnin` through New York like Max Payne<br>Out shootin` celebs, I`m rootin` for feds<br>In a pit of lions then we sip shoot from the heads<br>I run with maniacs liable to kill at any minute then<br>I wonder why I can`t shake this insanity image<br>It`s been a dead Cage since I`ve strapped to beds<br>And shot up with needles and five since I put gas to heads<br>You was bitch in high school no rep no threat<br>Riding my jacket like I`m a hand off the fans at coat check<br>Haters want to put they bitches up no stress<br>Like your life in the monitor box behind the desk<br>I scribble shit on paper, pay rent, look at nature<br>See a menage before lunch, them bitches are ravers<br>Drive blazers, still inside my North Face<br>Drippin` formaldahyde and short-circuit my tazer<br><br>[Chorus]