Do I Miss My Friends?

Back in those days, back in my end
We would bro down every weekend
I miss those times, I miss those skins
I had to ask do I miss my friends?

On the forfeit towns where they misbehave
Where they skip the bills and they radio slave
I'm a cutthroat boy you're an empty grave
We can still be friends when I get off stage

Yo, rat pack Sammy Davis, rap pages
Betty Davis slab tray off the meat rack
Beat fact checkers need to take a fucking break
If you know what I mean you know what I mean

My current girl is a stewardess
But she ain't fly, she's well grounded
Still astounded to see me try
To play around with the boundaries

Beats hotter than a foundry
Less beef than a pantry don't call me Tom like Landry
Call me Alec Simon with the words that I'm rhymin'
With the peculiar timing or friends by proximity

I have friends who spend in loud numbers
I have friends who depend on cloud cover
I have friends who don't know my name
My favorite friend, she believes in change
When I tell her about the core of a man
All she says is, "I'm a woman", so then I say

"Back in those days, back in my end
We would bro down every weekend
I miss those times, I miss those skins
I had to ask do I miss my friends?"

On the forfeit towns where they misbehave
Where they skip the bills and they radio slave
I'm a cutthroat boy you're an empty grave
We can still be friends when I get off stage

My friends have dreams now guess why we're friends
Common bonds come along like common songs
With an offbeat delivery and awkward obscenity
Odd are it's here we walk by the river stream
And wonder about the life and death of chivalry

I'm bumping tough I have a really good memory
And to the jerk that said words don't hurt
Talk to me for a change I'll treat ya like Pac in a Range
My ex-girlfriend talks to me real strange

'Cause she knows being closer
Would make her hate me forever
Got a hoodie that's clever, draped in bone leather
When was it last we hung out together?

It was a scene like put me on a rack
Or rag me with guilt or rack up some kills
Or crack up some krills
So you can look good for your friends

Back in those days, back in my end
We would bro down every weekend
I miss those times, I miss those skins
I had to ask do I miss my friends?

On the forfeit towns where they misbehave
Where they skip the bills and they radio slave
I'm a cutthroat boy you're an empty grave
We can still be friends when I get off stage

I'm done shaking hands under pounds and waves
Because I don't have sex on the very first date
You're trying to fuck but I know people like you
Who spend a whole night saying what they might do

And I'm a doer not a sayer, shaker and a mover
With the kind of strange dream that hits your brain like a tumor
Two more awkward encounters with ex-one nighters
And I'm done shooting off my mouth at gunfighters

I run writers and walk printers crowded email
I officially block senders asking, "Do you remember early December?
We hung out together, I tried to find you on Friendster"
"Well, I haven't used that since LimeWire"

Tearaways in junior high alienation
So I apologize for this confirmation
Of the touring musician stereotype
I'm the same guy who's drunk and probably a bit bored
Ha ha ha ha ha ha to be honest

Back in those days, back in my end
We would bro down every weekend
I miss those times, I miss those skins
I had to ask do I miss my friends?

On the forfeit towns where they misbehave
Where they skip the bills and they radio slave
I'm a cutthroat boy you're an empty grave
We can still be friends when I get off stage

Afterparties
My dad said I was an afterparty baby
This goes out to all the accidents out there
Keep on making mistakes