Lyrics Honeymoon Suite - Rob Sonic

Honeymoon Suite

Honeymoon’s over bitch, I’m pretty sure the marriage is
Limpin' through the sofa with a drippy nose embarrasin'
American, muscle got his hustle from a cottonmouth
Tearin' through the muzzle in a subtle hint of common ground
Seek bowls tokers got them loonies in an empty room
Ready for my close-up or get blown up in a Denny’s booth
Anywho, made you, AC on the lowest line
CB on, the people bend so he can plan his own demise
Go inside, lights on, kid you know it’s curfew
Little wings are clipped and closed and pigeonholed in perfume
Wish it won’t get bridges to be repaired in their present state
And matches won’t turn wipers into water for your resume
Dedicate this to you as I want, I want to love to death
The oven it will summon him to wonder if there’s supper left
Cupboard theft, mother’s up, yellow on a panel stripe
Vodka as a condiment to complement the Camel lights
Ask me for no favors 'cause the party has a dollar jobs
Necklaces and medals that will soon resemble collar bombs
Oscar night, snubnosed, special on a Regents test
When he learned to drive the van and tried his hand at BMX
When he showed up bloody to the umpteenth to his mama’s house
When he copped a loveseat in a clock that you could rock around
Lava made up all his floors and all his doors were time machines
That got him through the screaming match he featured in his diary
Siamese standpipes, baggage under both his eyes
Many rules on how to coax a damsel out of «over» eyes
Soak an 86-pack, Corvette summer and
Jasmine and the orphan in the potion for the Tupperware
Cut and squeeze, crackle pop, cancel rock, mill a dram
Buddy system, one for old Wonderwall 'til it crack
'Sup with y’all, wizard hands, I’d love to hear a thing or three
On how to never geek the storm without ignoring liberty
Bittersweet symphony, take a seat Juliard
Come under the fur shit 'cause you worked it when the movie starts
Who are we, what am I, victor with some liver so
This is for the driven and the scissors of a different cloth
Y’all only let us get seconds in six
Y’all only rep until the end of your shit
Y’all only stepping if it’s better for biz
And only checking if your message is missed
Y’all only coming to the party with gauze
And only hungry when your market is off
Y’all only rugged with a carpeting stars
And don’t be bugging when we barring for ours