Yellow Brick Roads

Yellow brick roads
The sterile piss flows
Right off the balcony but i'm too drunk to care if it goes
Out to the streets where we get pissed on daily
I put it in these beats cause music's the only things that's gon' save me
Playing it safe is the riskiest call of all
I'm picky about it all
Cause if don't sound the way I hear it in my head
Then I just can't drop at all
Or maybe i'm just scared that i'm gon' drop the ball
I'm gone

I had to hit em' with the hammer
Sticky when the situation slipping out your hands like putting vodka in a kool-aid jammer
Tool head stanzas
Keep the buccaneer me
So hear me when I say i'm in the bay like tampa
With the jungle shit
Come equipped with a banana
I go ape shit
Face it
You ain't facing me with the grammer
Nouns and the verbs
My words
I got standards
For standout women and disregard instagrammers

Freedom's just an illusion
That's cole's conclusion
I hold it close to home a comatose up in my soul
It's stagnant
I can feel it moving
And I just hope that it moves me
Cause like loose leaf
I got the lines
Spiral out of control so long as they choose me

So go and choose me
I don't fuck w no bitch that be talking with them lips that move loosely
Cause loose lips sink ship and we booze cruising

'Man it feels like I'm living in a sweet life lately I don't know'

If I said it you can set it in stone
And I can't think up on a batter way to let it be known
Music steadily bring melodies to my head all day long
I swear I even hear the music when i'm getting it on
I'm gone

I need colossal pockets for dollas
Fuel like fossils and a bad bitch
That kinda look just like Kim Possible
Conquer the improbable
And turned it into simple physics and ion even need Pierre to come out here
And serve em dishes

I just want to make some music for you
To sit back maybe smoke and roll a blunt to
Then take a dip of oil heat it up like it was fondu
Whole to do list of the shit that you was gon' do
Big man kicking real lukaku
Feel like romelu
Ain't no thesaurus vocabulary is mad top
So that's why I feel dora way i'm making the bag talk
Stay out my feels I can't fuck with the sad talk
So if I pity myself how i'm supposed to get mad guap

A poster boy for wasted talent
A lemon taste like lemonade
Without the sugar
Leaves me sour like this world from round me
Give me an hour worth boredom
And I'll prolly fix it with enough smoke to unhinge my balance
That's how I mean wasted talent
Been waiting for on opportunity to come instead of reaching out and grabbing it
The proof is in the salad
I'd say it's in the pudding
But green leafs far better for the damaged

I'm gone