Body for the Pile clipping. & Sickness
"Body for the Pile" by clipping. & Sickness blends #HipHop and experimental sounds, released in 2021. The song explores themes of mortality, violence, and societal decay, using visceral imagery to convey a sense of urgency. Its unique blend of harsh beats and unsettling samples reflects modern anxieties, pushing boundaries in hip-hop.
[Verse 1]
And it's stains in the wainscotting, cracks in the baseboard
Arachnid in the corner serving up face
Like whose house you think this is?
Prism vision in low light
Scan prison tats on the back of a low-life, lifeless
And a broke nose might just be done drippin'
Wet all night, it dries deep red on the off-white carpet
And a soft light arcs just above arm height
All white Vans placed on the floor, pack of Pall Mall lights
Bite marks on a half sandwich with no crust
Mustard and mayonnaise, lettuce and red cold cuts
Moonlight streams through window dust
It floats up to the ceiling fan that creaks from rust as it labors to go 'round
Trying to catch that feeling
And the paint on its base is peeling
And the taste in the air is faint but there, just enough that the rats are nearing
'Cause where there's blood, there's feast and famine, makes murder a meal
And the cheap wall clock will stop at one shot, so he knew it was time to kill
[Chorus]
Bust one shot if your blood's still pumping
Bust two shots if you're really 'bout something
Three little pigs and they can't do nothing, for the last time
You can't run, you just a body for the pile, body for the pile
Body for the pile, body for the pile
You just a body for the pile, body for the pile
And you should probably take your last breath right about now
And it's stains in the wainscotting, cracks in the baseboard
Arachnid in the corner serving up face
Like whose house you think this is?
Prism vision in low light
Scan prison tats on the back of a low-life, lifeless
And a broke nose might just be done drippin'
Wet all night, it dries deep red on the off-white carpet
And a soft light arcs just above arm height
All white Vans placed on the floor, pack of Pall Mall lights
Bite marks on a half sandwich with no crust
Mustard and mayonnaise, lettuce and red cold cuts
Moonlight streams through window dust
It floats up to the ceiling fan that creaks from rust as it labors to go 'round
Trying to catch that feeling
And the paint on its base is peeling
And the taste in the air is faint but there, just enough that the rats are nearing
'Cause where there's blood, there's feast and famine, makes murder a meal
And the cheap wall clock will stop at one shot, so he knew it was time to kill
[Chorus]
Bust one shot if your blood's still pumping
Bust two shots if you're really 'bout something
Three little pigs and they can't do nothing, for the last time
You can't run, you just a body for the pile, body for the pile
Body for the pile, body for the pile
You just a body for the pile, body for the pile
And you should probably take your last breath right about now
Comments (0)
The minimum comment length is 50 characters.
Information
Users of Guests are not allowed to comment this publication.
There are no comments yet. You can be the first!