Forward

Yeah, yeah
Ay yo, The abusers, it's time
It's time, The abusers (aight, The abusers, begin)
Straight out the Epic dungeons of rap

The November drops deep as does my mouse
I never Dab, 'cause to Dab is the Dog of house
Beyond the walls of Memes, life is defined
I think of committing self die when I'm in an Alabama state of mind

Hope the plum got some gum
My bum don't like no dirty sum
Run up to the income and get the drum

In an Alabama state of mind
What more could you ask for? The Dank November?
You complain about Ouchdog's music
I gotta love it though - somebody still speaks for the September

I'm rappin' to the Keyboard
And I'm gonna move your record

Abusive, Spooky, Edgy, like a Thumb
Boy, I tell you, I thought you were a bum

I can't take the Ouchdog's music, can't take the Leaf
I woulda tried to Yeet I guess I got no relief

I'm rappin' to the record
And I'm gonna move your Keyboard

Yea, yea, in an Alabama state of mind

I be walking forward on these hoes
They always be licking on my toes
My homies always sucking on my toes
I can smell these bitches with my nose

Forward forward going places that you can't go
Abuse zone getting bigger than your afro
I just want a girl who's gonna suck on my toes
Forward forward moving higher up than you know

We want someone else
But i'm still fucking writing songs
You'll sing along to
If you could understand
What i'm saying oh
I'm singing "R&B"
Might be fucking playing
Ableton
Maybe then
I'll fucking make an album oh
Oh shit
Oh wait
No one wants to hear it
No one wants to hear it