Marathon
Ayo, we traveled like the clouds over hillsides
Took flight upon the breeze when I first felt the wind rise
And landed back within the womb when it's said and done
Fadey rhythms run as I sit upon the setting sun
Grandiosity, steady-handed high velocity
Absorbed the tones of rap-battle animosity
Decided it was not for me (nah) I'd rather cop a
Stock of matching crockery, rabid on a shopping spree
Hoard it, board it up in storage
Where I keep the game neatly organised and sorted in the
Hold of my war ship, only to import it back to
Flog it with a horse whip, tie it down and waterboard it
One handed, the other keeps the planets in their orbit
While the vision field is pleasantly distorted
Out in Japan the whole ordeal was sordid
Third dinner ordered four more portions of swordfish
Youthful energy is short-lived
Longevity is steady in the gift to forgive
Sipping Moscow Mules from a tin can
Masterful majestic unfolding of the wingspan
The final lessons yet to reveal
Is it in the bottle bottom, flesh, or the steel?
Meanwhile scribble texts on the hill
Roll another Yonny spin the technics and chill
Slang dealer all killer no fill
Swimming in the white powder fresh from the mill
In a field of daffodils from Brazil
Cook another meal, spin the technics and chill
Oh, my God we're back
Matter fact were never gone
Steady on the grind, mind state is may just carry on
Like cherry bomb ticking, keep the aerosol clicking
Yo this shit is not a sprint, it's a marathon
For chickens, clucking, stuff the turducken
With the flavor base to end all discussions, baby cakes
Baste the epiderm for crunching, crisping
Escape failed state, Snake Pliskin
Punching through the glass ceiling
They can't tell me nothing 'bout a sad feeling
Last seen 'em busy with the merciless cash reeling
Pack leader, rap heater, Matt Wheeler
Black caesar composition, competition knees up
Ease up, seem a little tense like a tree trunk
These aren't the Jedi that you're looking for so beat it, uh
Born to keep raw, until the last speaker's sore
Beats galore coming from a beast and a squeaky horn
Could we be wrong? I doubt it, that's genetically impossible
A pocket full of options that's incomparable, still
(You seem to run out) of breathing space
The wolf's come to hunt down the sheep in this steeplechase
It's fangtastic ravishing the deepest crates
Acclimatize your ears to great, homie we can wait
It's not like we ain't done it now for years and flayed
The naysayers steadily with every release to date
Eat the bait as I reel you in and fear the pen
My dearest friend through thick and thin never with the bickering
Therapy and insulin that carries me through injured limbs
And sense of incompletion preaching periclean gentleman
Begging you to help me
Why don't you help me?
Begging you to help me
Why don't you help me?
Begging you to-
Sink or swim ain't never been important
As I shape shift to water born to nepalese temple springs
Sit and drink and pour one out for bill withers
Still rivers still run deep, gimme thrills shivers
Crawling up the spine, the mind is the real realness (hell, yeah)
Deal with the technics and chill with it
Took flight upon the breeze when I first felt the wind rise
And landed back within the womb when it's said and done
Fadey rhythms run as I sit upon the setting sun
Grandiosity, steady-handed high velocity
Absorbed the tones of rap-battle animosity
Decided it was not for me (nah) I'd rather cop a
Stock of matching crockery, rabid on a shopping spree
Hoard it, board it up in storage
Where I keep the game neatly organised and sorted in the
Hold of my war ship, only to import it back to
Flog it with a horse whip, tie it down and waterboard it
One handed, the other keeps the planets in their orbit
While the vision field is pleasantly distorted
Out in Japan the whole ordeal was sordid
Third dinner ordered four more portions of swordfish
Youthful energy is short-lived
Longevity is steady in the gift to forgive
Sipping Moscow Mules from a tin can
Masterful majestic unfolding of the wingspan
The final lessons yet to reveal
Is it in the bottle bottom, flesh, or the steel?
Meanwhile scribble texts on the hill
Roll another Yonny spin the technics and chill
Slang dealer all killer no fill
Swimming in the white powder fresh from the mill
In a field of daffodils from Brazil
Cook another meal, spin the technics and chill
Oh, my God we're back
Matter fact were never gone
Steady on the grind, mind state is may just carry on
Like cherry bomb ticking, keep the aerosol clicking
Yo this shit is not a sprint, it's a marathon
For chickens, clucking, stuff the turducken
With the flavor base to end all discussions, baby cakes
Baste the epiderm for crunching, crisping
Escape failed state, Snake Pliskin
Punching through the glass ceiling
They can't tell me nothing 'bout a sad feeling
Last seen 'em busy with the merciless cash reeling
Pack leader, rap heater, Matt Wheeler
Black caesar composition, competition knees up
Ease up, seem a little tense like a tree trunk
These aren't the Jedi that you're looking for so beat it, uh
Born to keep raw, until the last speaker's sore
Beats galore coming from a beast and a squeaky horn
Could we be wrong? I doubt it, that's genetically impossible
A pocket full of options that's incomparable, still
(You seem to run out) of breathing space
The wolf's come to hunt down the sheep in this steeplechase
It's fangtastic ravishing the deepest crates
Acclimatize your ears to great, homie we can wait
It's not like we ain't done it now for years and flayed
The naysayers steadily with every release to date
Eat the bait as I reel you in and fear the pen
My dearest friend through thick and thin never with the bickering
Therapy and insulin that carries me through injured limbs
And sense of incompletion preaching periclean gentleman
Begging you to help me
Why don't you help me?
Begging you to help me
Why don't you help me?
Begging you to-
Sink or swim ain't never been important
As I shape shift to water born to nepalese temple springs
Sit and drink and pour one out for bill withers
Still rivers still run deep, gimme thrills shivers
Crawling up the spine, the mind is the real realness (hell, yeah)
Deal with the technics and chill with it
Credits
Writer(s): Adam Michael Simmons, Benjamin Bambach, Maik Schindler
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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