Stressing

Lately my mom been telling me
To stop stressing
In dire need of proceeds
For Smith & Wessons
If you know me you'd know
To listen, learn a lesson
Press play, tune in, miss something?
Rewind this session
They've said I'm blessed, I toke my weed,
Recline to think bout my obsessions
Its obscene
So don't bother to try and question
A lying pest been
Hiding
A quiet life
This road I'm driving down
Sky is violet
My mind is fried
I'm in my Camry, I hear the pitter patter
Ask myself, what's been the matter?
I start to choke and break down faster
Than I have before
Start slamming close
Any open doors
A metaphor
For how open I was before
Got home, in my bed where I lay
Walls, posters, paint started melting away
Thought about fucking blowing my brain out
On the dang couch
I slump, bout to take out
Cash to fuck a bitches brains out
No condom, cum quick
Call it takeout
Life is a massive playground
You shouldn't play 'round
Damn soul sucking greyhounds,
Getting really tidy
Hiding bodies
And moving lightly
I feel the vibe, please
Stop tryna remind me
Of what I've left behind

If I decide to read the signs
And in between the lines
I have to chance to change my pace
In this world too similar to a rat race
In that case
Fill up the gas, blast away
In last place
Shatter and scatter that taste
On the wrap that kid rolled up
We toked and got mad blazed
I've been spacing out
With my head in these clouds
I'm surrounded by clowns
Felt like the king of my town
I mean, I should've been crowned
Y'all call me King Arthur now
So start to bow down
And take your note's underground



Credits
Writer(s): Arthur Wood
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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