| Daywalker strut move illy
|
| Misunderstood because my writing isn’t gimme gimme
|
| Gotta see the nozzle leaking first
|
| Before interpreting what you think of the book’s cover and its worth
|
| Money heavy and there’s money heavy
|
| You carry gold in both your pockets, stop tip profit levy
|
| Already in the red a fortune teller tumbling
|
| Sit by myself, talk to myself, murmur and mumbling
|
| Numbers counting those cards you were dealt blow
|
| Scuffing a pair of threes on purpose to break, yo
|
| Swagger was created by Ish in just a few we follow suit took to commute
|
| About to shoot that javelin off the roof, visual
|
| Olympian lit moment of truth
|
| Ask and you shall receive some shit that you just can’t conceive
|
| But when it finally touches you’ll remember us forever, B
|
| Overlordian, electric blossom
|
| Spoiled rotten, not forgotten, robots block 'em
|
| Got a concoction of the gods offering
|
| Space time argument, street life we on with it, get off of it
|
| (Throw that)
|
| Over and out we tell a better story
|
| (Toss that)
|
| Over and out, and those are words of
|
| (Feet down)
|
| Maybe from the
|
| (Throw that)
|
| Over and out we tell a better story
|
| (Toss that)
|
| Over and out, and those are words of
|
| (Feet down)
|
| Maybe from the
|
| (Uh huh throw that)
|
| Over and out
|
| (Toss that)
|
| Over and out
|
| (Feet down)
|
| (Ain't got no time for the)
|
| Wallowing in it till my head splits it
|
| To the bottom of it
|
| Till I hit the bottoms like the bottom line
|
| They got em watch I’m out of line
|
| Stopped lookin' undermined
|
| 'Cause that aroma doesn’t match the cooking
|
| We hunger strike they’re like, «Fresh, less to feed»
|
| Yes indeed there’s less and less and less and less and less for me
|
| And less for free
|
| Except the heart especially speech they call it art (please)
|
| I’m on my own time crossing up the Rubicon
|
| But yeah by all means tell me again about your purchases
|
| That’s great really
|
| Nothing seems more poisonous than trying to spend your way out of worthlessness
|
| (not sorry)
|
| Smack dab every city’s like a rat’s lab
|
| That big scurry gimme that hurry back
|
| Fury in the belly like a hurricane trapped
|
| But don’t even know to bite back
|
| Just in-fighting and in-flight meals
|
| Stay in step, smile at cops and pay bills
|
| We probably not like you, correct
|
| We probably not. |
| Why you? |
| Yes
|
| Overlordian, electric blossom
|
| Spoiled rotten, not forgotten, robots block 'em
|
| Got a concoction of the gods offering
|
| Space time argument, street life we on with it, get off of it
|
| (Throw that)
|
| (Toss that)
|
| (Feet down)
|
| (Throw that)
|
| (Toss that)
|
| (Feet down)
|
| Maybe from the
|
| (Uh huh throw that)
|
| (Toss that)
|
| (Feet down)
|
| (Ain't got no time for the) |