the morning after the day off on one

you talk around events and from the side of your sight

the benson burns it reflects in your eyes

in the room with the computer in

listenin to music and watching old youtube shit

how come fire and rain sometimes sound the same

look me a goodbye in my eye as i say

its too hot in here for men with blood in their veins

faded by dust and darkened by days

theres a choral chorus

and a floral adoring fuss

for us

for dust

but youre too bold thus

you have to be bolder

youve got a big chip on your shoulder. yo misleading with lyrics the flow need to see it clearly

cos there all on my dick and they aint even seen my image

i recourse of chips on my shoulder

and battered fishes

i walk with a devil persona

they gather wishes

im in the hands of god and use up all my raffle tickets

when the numbers up ill rattle cages

and ill be lifted

they dont know who to show their face with

the act is finished

i was living in the matrix

but these girls dont act

gotta cross the line

is there a limit until lost for lines

so im saying what im actually thinking

im trying to say fuck you

and you hear the inkling

subdued by the way i play with words

itll have you thinking

i wonder what would have happened if i listened to mr simpkins

and really believed that i werent shit

it has me thinking

yeah it has me winking

i probably wouldnt be this sick

it has me cringing

but you can see the finger im waving from that distance.