My misophonia brought the faders up Now she's a military grade In Dolby Surround, around 5.1 Cue the barking from the baritone Conductor in the pit for the car honk duet Half-tone harmony from the sewer Rebel youth choir belt phrases even newer Dump truck man drops the beat with trash cans Call 911! We got therapy demands Philharmonic got a first chair car crash Pan the falsetto to smash the glass It's a drive-by lullaby that couldn't get worse A melody abandoned in the key of New York
Where nothing comes after I'm a passtime streamer Hanging from the rafters I don't get out I don't have fun Living like a captive of the sun
So I gotta put my shades on Riding through the city as I gets my escalade on Flipping down the streets that my reputation was made on King of the city, the mayor finna put a parade on Drop the confetti from off the rooftop While I come down candy and let my roof drop I got a baddie shotgun in a tube top With some daisy dukes on and some tube socks Listening to 2Pac You ain't know I do rock records I do it all I got my hands in some cookie jars You ain't knew at all I took a chance and threw caution up in the wind Cuz I got nothing to lose but got something to win We throw it up against the wall and see if it sticks It's gon' end up being a bomb or being the shit They said the fix was in, guess we'll know when it's done Until then we'll just be captives of the sun
Sight read the chart Clap the rocks into sand A 12-pass van on a pot-hole band stand Got an oil can hangover by default And trucks pave the roads with amphetamine salt Skull shaking cadence of the J train rolls The rhythm of defeat, repeating like a pulse Marching on and static, lyrics shout a retort To the melody abandoned in the key of New York
Where nothing comes after I'm a passtime streamer Hanging from the rafters I don't get out I don't have fun Living like a captive of the sunTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
