Senseless
I don't even rap no more I throw gems
I see shit different I switched up the whole lens
Analyzed patterns of habits and old trends
Now I'm reintroducing myself to old friends like
Hi, hello, Andy Boothman
Swam through a river of shit like Andy Dufresne
And came out the other side like goddamn he looks clean
I'm riding on a wave I couldn't fathom in a dream
Now, Booth Butler, a symmetry of sorts
At the crossroads could have been criminals for sport
Ended up fucking up being criminals in court
Now we're in court litigating criminal and tort
You ain't on that level though
You ain't a predator where everything is edible
Where sentences are federal, compensables are fucking up
Commas and moving decimals homie just eat your vegetables
Look I don't mean to be pretentious
But everything I see is senseless
Homie I'm feeling restless
Cause everything I see is senseless
It's ludicrous to look at what I done or what I do, bitch
In terms of being lucrative, it's what I do
Boy I see it through, my occupation is being Booth
Before I disappear in a mere poof
I'm a leave my mark, a whiff of my energy
And any city that I've ever been in, they remember me
Staten Island to Buffalo with the fuckery
Chicago was surgical with the cutlery
Juris doctorate murder was fucking fun for me
Lost in DuPont Circle with rocks and the fiends run from me
I overdo it indeed, also I overthink it
There's not a thought that you can offer that's not
Already been chopped, screwed, and altered, and tortured and white-boarded
So when you start to say, Hey, you ever thought of X
I've already concluded Yes, stressed about the best way to respond
Without sounding like I'm being facetious or speaking in jest
Who the fuck do I think I am
It's Boothman with my motherfucking nuts in my hand
I'll be humble 99 percent of the time but once in a while
I got to remind these motherfuckers who the fuck I am
The most official, bitch I'll roast an instrumental
My poems are like hollow tips loaded in chrome pistol
Crack bone and rip tissue
Got a bone to pick with you, that throne it don't fit you
I see shit different I switched up the whole lens
Analyzed patterns of habits and old trends
Now I'm reintroducing myself to old friends like
Hi, hello, Andy Boothman
Swam through a river of shit like Andy Dufresne
And came out the other side like goddamn he looks clean
I'm riding on a wave I couldn't fathom in a dream
Now, Booth Butler, a symmetry of sorts
At the crossroads could have been criminals for sport
Ended up fucking up being criminals in court
Now we're in court litigating criminal and tort
You ain't on that level though
You ain't a predator where everything is edible
Where sentences are federal, compensables are fucking up
Commas and moving decimals homie just eat your vegetables
Look I don't mean to be pretentious
But everything I see is senseless
Homie I'm feeling restless
Cause everything I see is senseless
It's ludicrous to look at what I done or what I do, bitch
In terms of being lucrative, it's what I do
Boy I see it through, my occupation is being Booth
Before I disappear in a mere poof
I'm a leave my mark, a whiff of my energy
And any city that I've ever been in, they remember me
Staten Island to Buffalo with the fuckery
Chicago was surgical with the cutlery
Juris doctorate murder was fucking fun for me
Lost in DuPont Circle with rocks and the fiends run from me
I overdo it indeed, also I overthink it
There's not a thought that you can offer that's not
Already been chopped, screwed, and altered, and tortured and white-boarded
So when you start to say, Hey, you ever thought of X
I've already concluded Yes, stressed about the best way to respond
Without sounding like I'm being facetious or speaking in jest
Who the fuck do I think I am
It's Boothman with my motherfucking nuts in my hand
I'll be humble 99 percent of the time but once in a while
I got to remind these motherfuckers who the fuck I am
The most official, bitch I'll roast an instrumental
My poems are like hollow tips loaded in chrome pistol
Crack bone and rip tissue
Got a bone to pick with you, that throne it don't fit you
Credits
Writer(s): Andrew Booth
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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