Neil's Trip
Take a sip and I'm going to the moon
Couple hits and I'm going to the moon
Getting lit and I'm going to the moon
You don't know my pain, or whatever I'm going through
Let me introduce you the Neil
He shakes hands flexing his bicep
When he comes through the spot
Like gravity don't exist a high steps
He likes to clown around
Those in His circle know the truth
His life has been a circus ever since his mother induced
He grew with a torch and a short fuse
A scar and a bruise or two
What emotions you think are his go to
With no one therapeutic to go to?
That's why he joke and laughs
And cracks open another rocket ship
With the moon he waxes rhetoric
Blasting off with another sip, to elevate
Take a sip and I'm going to the moon
Couple hits and I'm going to the moon
Getting lit and I'm going to the moon
You don't my pain and whatever I'm going through
Neils living life in a space suit
In one hand is some gas
The other's holding moon juice
Sip up, this months father figure said
Neil sees his reflection is rancid
Refill, repeat, rack up receipts
Money bags, cash, commas, scrilla, cheese
Getting paid to Neil, is hunting and gathering
Trust is just another word in the dictionary
Loneliness is a library card he uses for the daily
Checking out, to not be the laughing stock
He laughs a lot, laughter ends
His Pain ascends
Punch lines don't have landing pads on the moon
The sips have run of fuel
Neil could feel the giant step to take
Face emptiness inside and explore that space
Take a sip and I'm going to the moon
Couple hits and I'm going to the moon
Getting lit and I'm going to the moon
You don't my pain and whatever I'm going through
Couple hits and I'm going to the moon
Getting lit and I'm going to the moon
You don't know my pain, or whatever I'm going through
Let me introduce you the Neil
He shakes hands flexing his bicep
When he comes through the spot
Like gravity don't exist a high steps
He likes to clown around
Those in His circle know the truth
His life has been a circus ever since his mother induced
He grew with a torch and a short fuse
A scar and a bruise or two
What emotions you think are his go to
With no one therapeutic to go to?
That's why he joke and laughs
And cracks open another rocket ship
With the moon he waxes rhetoric
Blasting off with another sip, to elevate
Take a sip and I'm going to the moon
Couple hits and I'm going to the moon
Getting lit and I'm going to the moon
You don't my pain and whatever I'm going through
Neils living life in a space suit
In one hand is some gas
The other's holding moon juice
Sip up, this months father figure said
Neil sees his reflection is rancid
Refill, repeat, rack up receipts
Money bags, cash, commas, scrilla, cheese
Getting paid to Neil, is hunting and gathering
Trust is just another word in the dictionary
Loneliness is a library card he uses for the daily
Checking out, to not be the laughing stock
He laughs a lot, laughter ends
His Pain ascends
Punch lines don't have landing pads on the moon
The sips have run of fuel
Neil could feel the giant step to take
Face emptiness inside and explore that space
Take a sip and I'm going to the moon
Couple hits and I'm going to the moon
Getting lit and I'm going to the moon
You don't my pain and whatever I'm going through
Credits
Writer(s): Elliot Taylor
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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