Elder Goose

Day one the lights fade, the music's full of bass
She's all up in my face, I can't believe she's so close
Feeling her grind made me lose my mind
I'm just plain old take home material, take home material

I keep my fingers crossed
Hoping to find a way to show you what I'm made of
Throw all our worries to the wind

I backtracked, stabbed at you
Followed the tracks to a cabin filled with wooden spoons
Then a shred of lead ripped my hoodie in two
There's no telling what my evil twin brother wouldn't do

I wake up drenched in sweat
Wondering who I'm lying with
What a joke, there's nothing left to explore

Find myself at the end of a bottle
Laying in your bed hoping to find out where I'm at (The weight can make you trip, but you won't fall down)
And it's gone away, my song so long
(The weight can make you trip, but you won't fall down)

Accept fresh, fresh can of broccoli
I can't hear you when you are knocking
A less fresh, fresh can of broc'
I'll be leaning towards a centimeter short of much
Accept fresh, fresh can of broccoli
I can't hear you when you are knocking
A less fresh, fresh can of broc'
I'll be leaning towards a centimeter short of much

As the sun goes down, baby, I'm in town
Hopin' to find someone to take it all
I know I'm right when I say, "Go away"

You get around, oh, you get around, oh
You get around, oh, you're busy fucking everyone
Busy fucking everyone
Oh, you're busy fucking everyone

Find myself at the end of a bottle
Laying in your bed hoping to find out where I'm at (The weight can make you trip, but you won't fall down)
And it's gone away my song, so long
(The weight can make you trip, but you won't fall down)

Feeling my heart race
Drenched in sweat
As I wonder
I'm not scared, not prepared
Lay down flat on your back
Open up girl, let's play attack
Let's waste our time

Back on top, but my blocks mowed down
Man, I'm fit
Yeah, my stomachs never touched the ground
But I'm courteous
Still keep it real with my nerdiness
14th's my birthday
Her's is on the 30th

If you were dead, I bet this shit would bloom
Get a standing ovation from an empty room
Fuck your ass
I don't want your cereal
You can get your wig split back
I'll be the same O.G



Credits
Writer(s): Jonny Craig, William Swan, Jonathan David Mess, Matthew James Mingus
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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