Let's Be Realistic

My heart race a mile a minute
I'm feelin' igant
The lies come
I'm dodgin' sinners
Like no religion
The prize come to rising winners
I thrive in winter
The Spring, Summer tides are rippin'
I jump from bridges
And take rides to push the mission
Don't make exceptions
No CamCord
Don't need extensions
I flip the benches
Like fuck that coach shit
I don't know if
My friends are crazy
Cuz everything I see
Just a reflection of my brain
The world from the inside
The world from my frame
I'm dead on the inside
But I have no shame
We dead on the inside
But I have no shame
So retail and re-scale the whites and blanks
These deep shares of our fears
Like pots 'n sinks
Necessary
Born in February
And my birthmark the shape of heart
Too empathetic
So I scrapped all the paint off my walls
I'm so pathetic
I'm tired of these all schemers 'n
Nah they'll never get it
But the dollar bill the name of her God
And I don't get it
I feel her heart all covered in scars
And it's depressin'
How bad I wanna show her the world
Of happy endings
But let's be realistic
Yeah let's be realistic
Fuck that shit...

Maybe I feel too much these days (your so cold)
Half the time don't know what to say (I don't know)
But I'm here right now
And all our skeletons come out to play
Come out to play
Aye

Maybe I feel too much these days (your so cold)
Half the time don't know what to say (I don't know)
But I'm here right now
And all my skeletons come out to play
They come out to play
Yeah yeah

Uh
I hate words
Cuz they're too long
And hate hurts
For way to long
So... haha

Uh uh
Doin' lines off of "Views" CD's
Gettin high look at these view, see dese?
I'm kinda lost on what to do for me
But first things first I gotta prove to me
That the American scheme ain't perfect
And all this fucking green ain't worth it
But I just can't trust nobody else
Livin' within a shell and that's a living hell
But the hell I live in a little bit different
The girls I'm seein' got me muhufuckin' trippin'
They pure evil like some heathens 'n some demons
But I still see them every late night weekend
Maybe I'm dreaming but I just hate thinkin'
And I think too much so
This double crutch gotta go
And this fucking blunt kill my throat goddammit uh



Credits
Writer(s): Weston Steingraber Ii
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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