Goodbye

You okay
Mad-size hit you took, dawg
When's the last time you smoked weed
What, um, twelfth grade

Oh, we were, uh
Smokin' weed
Yeah
Smokin' weed

Bout to get gonzo
Yeah, yeah
In honor of all those that slit their throat under fear of hell
I'm shearin' pelts, high huffin' sealants

Not feelin' well, my flow gifted like healing wells
I'm peelin' gels, layin' on my back, watchin' the ceiling
Searin' melt, head rush, ear anvils, ringin', stealin' bells
Bars make kids fear the belt like recovering dope fiends

Near a cell, the lean make it hard to swerve like no power steering belt
My shit dusty from off the clearance shelf, on the edge of the desert
Eatin' cactus buttons, kickin' tumbleweeds
We roll out like dope bundle sleeves, dig up bodies to cuddle me

Dollar iced teas and crumbled ease
I'm on that blowin' Paula, throw your dough and porn up
Smoke a quarter, get retarded, came to the show in the short bus

Where the fuck am I right now
Weird shit, yo
Ghost ingestion, I have no reflection, when I'm high I'm fine
I apologize for sober texting, overgrown erection, my four hours are up
I just want a loyal model
In the shower to fuck
And a massage that goes on once the hour is up
I don't just eat my words, I devour this stuff
Awkwardly zoning out, in the strangest of places
I'm not looking at nothing, I'm trying to make out the faces, engaging in phrases

I try to climb to the top, but my spine is so shot I'm dying, I'm surprised I don't rot
Long gone are the days when I got high from some pot
I am the failed establishment, high IQ, rioting cop, J. Cole
Meteoric rise to the top, set fire to the coke
If you think that line wasn't hot
My life is just shot
Man this isn't happy music, this is satanic ritual gone wrong, the mass is clapping to it
But the government is good, they didn't actually do it
I'm done with this rap shit man, your ass is stupid



Credits
Writer(s): Lance Weidman
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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