Lucid

We destroying everything like a Demogorgon
'Cause things feeling stranger these days
That's why I don't send no fucking warnings, ho
We don't give a fuck about your foreign
You could've saved that money by exploring
Not the world, I mean your inner self
Spent too much time chasing the wealth and lost sight of yourself
Same story we've come to expect
Bitch, you need to stop talking about thots and have an original thought
Your brain's just too fucking clogged with all of that shit that they drop
Watch em' flop
I heard a Lil' boat want the smoke?
Beware of me, you don't wanna toke
Only puff, puff and no pass in my rotation
Make that real shit they won't air on them stations

Yeah, fuck being humble
I'm the godfather
Rodney Mullen, Don Corleone, ay, ee, whatever you prefer, my g
Act like they running shit
They too high up on the pony
They phonies
Can't believe a word of they bologna
Pass the bleezy, getting stoney
Critics out here acting like they know me but it's "fuck 'em, stay committed" if you know me
Bitch, you ain't slangin' you a CO... but talking like you check in with a PO
Don't mess with Dallas, we lethal
Dropping that shit that challenge your cerebral
This ain't that effortless shit
Heard your whole album
You should've named it "Pre-Season" it ain't really mean shit
Name it "Pre-Season" ain't really mean shit

They acting like they bangin'
They ain't hard (They ain't hard)
Bitch, the only fucking caps you drop is when they locked up on your fucking keyboard, whew
Twitter fingers, twitter fingers
Littlefinger, see you scheming
Pop your head around the corner
I need to see who's face I'm meeting
360 no scope to the dome with the chrome
I can't get the fake ones to leave me alone
Fuck out my phone unless you plug to get blown or the ho to get bone
Out my face or get thrown
Have some clones to dethrone
Yellow tape, you can't even step in my zone
Your masters you don't even own
You just a puppet
A slave to the game
Begging a label to make you a name

Your listeners are looking inflated
They need to recount the population
See a bunch of bots up in your playlist
Yeah, we can see the fucking numbers, Mason
Anybody seen him?
Where Mike WiLL at?
I'm tired of hearing them waste all of your hard ass beats under their soft ass raps
Hit my inbox if you wanna hear a beat get clapped
That's facts
We are proof just 'cause the beat hard don't mean you gotta speak dumb shit
Tryna get these dark thoughts out my mental
Translation, have to murder instrumentals
Yeah, the album coming this just pre-heating
They can't handle the temp if I don't ease 'em in it

Not in control of my brain
It makes me feel some type of way
I can't explain this shit (I really can't explain this shit)
This just so much more than music
Tryna control all my dreams, I'm feeling lucid
I'm feeling lucid, lucid

Not in control of my brain
It makes me feel some type of way
I can't explain this shit (I really can't explain this shit)
This just so much more than music
Tryna control all my dreams, I'm feeling lucid
I'm feeling lucid, lucid, yeah

Feel some type of way
Feel some type of way
I'm feeling lucid



Credits
Writer(s): Shalon Tillman
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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