Creme's Interlude

I don't know if it's in the record store yet
But I wanna pick it up, so, what's up?

It don't feel right (it don't, it don't)
It don't feel right (oh-oh-oh)
It's all in the stars
By ways of Mars
With my dark (oh, oh)
With my dark (oh, oh)

Always standin' on
Or bettin' on my fault
Monetary Gods
Never shoot your guards
Power

You do anything for the power
Our presence with the Lords
Infiltrate our Gods
We blame it what we are

This is ours
No, don't you cry no more
Had to be made 'cause the pain
Oh, whoa, oh-oh
Try to stay sane (oh, oh, oh, oh)

Man, ay, man, I'm tryna go to this record shop, man, call these niggas
I know these niggas there, we gotta call 'em right now, call 'em
A'ight, a'ight, we'll call 'em right now
Ah, where these niggas at though?
Come on, Pink Siifu, Fly Anakin, I know you're there
You're not doin' anythin', it's a record shop
You're fuckin' sittin' there collecting dust
Ain't nobody there, ain't nobody fuckin' there
These niggas too cool, and bye



Credits
Writer(s): Brittany Foushee, Frank L. Walton, Greg Saldate, Livingston Matthews
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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