| I’m like, fuck drums man, this is 2016, what are you fucking crazy?
|
| But leave the drums in for a little bit
|
| Yeah
|
| Fresh off the roller coaster
|
| Hot off the presses
|
| Stef
|
| Keeping my comments hostage
|
| Nothing like the rest
|
| Nothing like some rest
|
| Born half dead and dynamite
|
| Raised blessed and right
|
| Aim for the chest
|
| Yeah
|
| Or head
|
| Talking bloodies prefer Maria to Mary
|
| I mean tequila but hair of the dog will bite you back
|
| Woof
|
| My aunt slipped quick
|
| Liquor thin
|
| Blood don’t stick like it’s supposta
|
| Pools of it
|
| Ice cold blue lips
|
| Not the full and candy gloss gels
|
| And Whatever else sells to them females
|
| While we duck the mall cops
|
| But Ice cold paleish
|
| Doornails
|
| Daisies on shove, late to well wish
|
| Better off doves
|
| Carnations all in arrangements
|
| Yeah
|
| Intent to show love
|
| My view is always adjacent to whatever’s above
|
| And you lookin truly vacant
|
| When trouble bubbles up
|
| Up
|
| Burners down
|
| Stove top way too hot
|
| Keep the juices in the brats
|
| Speak the true and keep the plot
|
| Reap the crucial
|
| Leave the block
|
| See the boost and hold your spot
|
| Be the freshest while they rot
|
| Don’t get got
|
| Got, like, fifty benjis to the moniker
|
| Tryna hit the lotto off these verses
|
| While they ponder at they desk all the lyrics to Once in a Lifetime
|
| Hearing them Talking Heads while I’m screaming about how it’s my time
|
| Cause it is
|
| Every tick tock in my pocket
|
| Switched on
|
| Ride it on thick
|
| About to rock
|
| Push pedal gas dip break
|
| Class had to wait
|
| Back when I had the Black Label stickers on my skate
|
| On them rooftops
|
| Or in them ditches
|
| Cozy as cooling out
|
| Comfortable in them sitches
|
| Sunday morning easy
|
| Egga-Mooby Muffin
|
| A windmill when it’s breezy
|
| A turbine when it’s flooded
|
| Pack the action like I’m Liam Neeson
|
| Pleased to meet
|
| Please to beast and be all I can say and see
|
| Ease your speech and creep your dirt away from me
|
| Your life’s a beach
|
| I keep it concrete
|
| (Hold up)
|
| I ain’t lookin at ya sideways
|
| Nah
|
| It’s just your face is like on crooked
|
| Or something
|
| I ain’t trying make your crew leave
|
| Nah
|
| It’s just that we don’t want you feeling stupid
|
| We hella cozy here
|
| We keep it coolerator
|
| You got a lotta blah blah
|
| You need to see me later
|
| Take a hint
|
| Take a lift
|
| Get an Uber
|
| Get a clue ask a friend homie |