Lean Hard

Through the pitch, clawed
Shot the shared god
Sewed him up with stitches as the witch cawed
Try and clean shards from the green part
Fake it till you slake it baby, lean hard
(And then ya)

You'll just breeze on through
No there's no excuse to ride the latitude
You eat
Ya ain't the food
So I could really do without the goddamn attitude

Shake it baby shake it baby twist up all your pistons baby
Maybe movement ain't the function this afternoon
Weighty snippets maybe keep you with the sixes daily
But its sunny and I ain't havin' none

Well what's a breeze on through
If you really wanna ride the latitude, go 'head
Eat
You ain't yet food
So I could really do without the goddamn attitude

All hail the prince of pain
Your bitter bishop is an insult to his fame
Move you span out half the plane
Brick up an oven bake me
My silhouette is my name
You got two hands to touch
Whatcha gonna do?
You're just a pound of clay
Hey
Listen what I say
Bake it then you'll break it keep it wet and keep it naked come on



Credits
Writer(s): Seth Peacock
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

Link