Inside Baseball

Phone it in for the fucks you wouldn't give in your Nike
Runners, I would be dumb luck, hurry pass me the Visine
Disingenuous nines I'm dressing to in the Courtyard
Marriot, are you with me? Sorrow up into soma

Unambiguous haze of loving you as a brother
Hear me out through a haircut, keep the can undercover
Lemonade and amber, everything is on the tip of your tongue
Take whatever you want, but easy now on the pablum

Bad ideas of you falling back to where you were fucked up
Tipsy, I was a ballerina in bottoms up, what
Ever you want to tell me through legitimate crisis
Heaven-sent for your dojo, don't be indecisive

Apolitical nothing, hormones on your hands
Where were you when the myths got biological, man?



Credits
Writer(s): Leon Hedstrom
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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