A Real Rattlesnake Looks Like This:

Fresh outta luck, I'm looking for my mind
I'm in the cut, I made twenty four lines
I'm rolling up, I'm praying for a sign
Tasting blood, I'm running outta time

You're all expectation
And no adoration
Don't need adulation
Just a place to go
This juxtaposition
That's come to fruition
Is rife with conditions
And absent of home
And I know I know
I know you know
These secrets that we keep

Fresh outta luck, I'm looking for my mind
You're outta touch, you say I'm not your kind
I break the door, someone's gotta draw the line
"Well, are you sure?" "Were you ignoring all the signs?"

I've reached a conclusion
That's steeped in confusion
Heart and mind contusions
And my, how they've grown
In each vain construction
I've found self-destruction
It's simple deduction
I'm best on my own
And I know I know
I know you know
These secrets that we keep

Francine, who had been so proud of her capacity
To make Dwayne relax, was now ashamed
To have made him tighten up again
He was as rigid as an ironing board
"Oh my God," she said, "what's the matter now?"

"If you're going to ask me for presents," said Dwayne, "just do me a favor
And don't hint around right after we've made love
Let's keep lovemaking and presents separate, okay?"

"I don't even know what you think I asked you for!" said Francine
Dwayne mimicked her cruelly in a falsetto voice
"I don't even know what you think I asked you for!" he said
He looked about as pleasant and relaxed as a coiled rattlesnake now
It was his bad chemicals, of course, which were
Compelling him to look like that
A real rattlesnake looks like this

And I know I know
I know you know
These secrets that we keep



Credits
Writer(s): Nikolas Honore
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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