Desperate and lonely you need someone for holding but that's not how you know me so you just call me homie when looking for comforting company to give aid to your conforming country then you just start hatefully hunting to prove you are... something.
You say get in the whip like you're cool and you're hip you sound like a **** that is dip but I need your script in my wrist so I hop in your motor vehicle hoping for a hopeless miracle that you'll stop acting satirical and break out that bag that is spherical.
That shot must've not sat right you've been looking for a fight all narcotic night your sardonic sight has been on pointed humor to get me annoyed but I don't feel like Robert Downey Jr. or Pink Floyd when you interrupt my ****** stupor to argue like boys I just want to be a user drama devoid.
You spit and stunt telling me if I don't roll the blunt I can get the **** out of your car I ask why you're acting hard is it emotional scars? Or Xanax bars? This planet's marred with cancer hearts you play your part by trying to act cool thus making the world colder you look like a piece of stool but think you're a soldier.
My shoulders shrug high saying I don't want to be Drug Guy so there's no need to be unkind we can talk about this sometime once you're unblind but until then see not me with your peacocking you seem cocky but scream softly.
You call me a ***** I say try me and you'll see it'll only be fueling an endless cycle of dueling but you want to be the crazy one so your choices are hazy ones and your ideas lazy ones like playing nun for gaming funds then regarding yourself as a mature man everyone can smell your manure ****.