Hanna-Barbera

Lay all awake
Ain't no lights outside
VCR my clock
I never know the time
Meditate on loud
I got lots on my mind
Thoughts speed race
Things to stop on a dime
Things still fuck with me
I just got in therapy
Turns out I been slipping
Lost myself in 17
Been missing them days
When I still felt the same way
Got down with my demons
They know my name
I know their name
Devil on my shoulder
Yeah he shouldered the K
And whispered in my ear
We chasing thick ones today
Don't go not yet
Light it up and hit it once
But if I hit it once
Ain't gon be no one and done
Fly stepper yeah
Got my suede boots on
Smoking so much sticky icky
Gotta keep the goo gone
Despite my best efforts to stay objective I still get caught with this shit
Things still fuck with me
I just got in therapy
Turns out I been slipping
Lost myself in 17
Things still fuck with me
I just got in therapy
Turns out I been slipping
Lost myself in 17
Things still fuck with me
I just got in therapy
Turns out I been slipping
Lost myself in 17
Devil on my shoulder
Yeah he shoulder the K
But I got Yahweh on my knee
I'm praying five times a day

Know me in truth
In the hall of His hand
Vocal, no booth
With a microphone stand
Stop rewind
Because we be kind
Friend to felines
Standardly defined
One who assembles puzzles
Wax or digital
In fact original
Lives in the ritual
Put in work for Mystery Incorporated
Look in the mirror
See the faces of the
Dynamic trio of terror
Envy over views
Out of my back door
Slack jaw act raw
And wax philosophical
Lionfish tropical
Motions in an ample tank
McDuck dive head first
In the sample bank
Occupation: Making all of them hot cakes
Chirp all my Nextel homies with the hot take
Bought Quake III
4:3 Before flat screen
I pledge allegiance
To the black screen

Uh
Mercedes Benz fantasies
Gold hammers gleam
Let your hammer ring
My young whoadi
Calamity Coyote
Wood grain on my steering wheel
And it match the face on the watch
So tell me how you feel
The only thing I fear is a raid
Cadillac like a fabrochet egg
Serve your auntie while
I'm getting a bald fade
Flexin cash on instagram
Nigga that's all y'all made
I'm bagging zippers while
My dog's playing spades
Ain't no dope in the stash
Cuz the money's being made
Every single day put my neck out
For the check now
I remember mama saying
Put the chicken back
At the checkout
I don't wanna meet no new niggas
So when they get popped for the dope
They can say that it was you nigga
Stop talkin bout your life
On these fucking phones
Like they ain't got a wiretap
In your fucking home
I don't speak in the kitchen
Get a hundred year bid
Cuz your wife was bitching
That's how I'm living



Credits
Writer(s): Elijah Colburn
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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