Discover the poetic beauty in ‘Phantom Menace’ by $uicideboy$. This lyric breakdown takes you on a journey through the artist’s thoughts, emotions, and the story they aim to tell. From clever metaphors to evocative imagery, we delve into the nuances that make this song a lyrical masterpiece. Whether you’re a fan of $uicideboy$ or a lover of well-crafted words, our detailed analysis will give you a deeper understanding and appreciation of this song.
Back against the wall (f*ck!)
And my pocket against the wall
Still hanging in the hall
Never change, I’m the same (nope)
Please don’t fucking call me, no (no)
The person you are trying to reach is unavailable, aye (aye)
Remember the days, when me and $licky came to LA? (hmm, hmm)
Sleepin’ up-front at the Fat Nick’s house
Then the devil lifts the pillow when he doesn’t hit the couch (ay, ay, hey)
That’s to no amount
Tell this time to really count
Whatever the f*ck you said you hate is what the f*ck I’m really about
Really doing drugs, unlike you do it for the clout (nah)
Really got a problem, like I’m usually backing out (yeah)
All my friends are headcases and this kid’s gonna pout
Bring it back to the pizza kitchen, I’ll clock in ‘n’ out
Washin’ dishes, ’cause of my bitch, and a manager tripped still I’m out (I’m out)
F*ck the rap industry, I’m down for the motherfucking count (ha-ha)
All you fucking clowns, I could really do without (aye)
I’ll be back, I really, really, really doubt
Southside maniac with the nine loaded (what?)
Northside Shawty, AKA I’m loaded (okay)
Made a couple milli’ world tour (yeah)
F*ck it up
F*ck a couple men
Bind it up, like I’m the Joker in Gotham City (ha-ha-ha!)
Before the days we used to hit up Orange Mound (hold up)
TA clothes, smart fucks gon’ count (throw them hands, like–)
Ridin’ four deep
$moked out, loced out, $moked out, loced out (what?)
Now I’m surrounded by folks I never met
Seem like the bigger you get, equals nothing but death
But nonetheless, still ’bout them dead presidents
Innocent residence, straper looked out, begin
Funerals for the cold-blooded makeup skin (pop-pop-pop)
So I called Ruby, he said we got the blade (okay)
I’m like, okay, I got the jacket loaded in the AK
In the AK, AK
F*ck yeah!
(All of y’all are fake, all of ya’ll are fake, all of y’all are fake)
(All of y’all are fake, all of ya’ll are fake, all of y’all are fake)
(All of y’all are fake, all of ya’ll are fake, all of y’all are fake)