Cloudy, Muggy The day's all shitty as Fighting spells, the citys the real delay at a quarter to six I'm lady done stepped on my kicks, voluptuous tricks around, and it sucks to be you, But I living a lie is a luxury too. It probably plain to say some strange days And any-which-way let a man it to his terms no need for concern, From his own mistakes, yeah you must learn Hand full of tricks, A full of motivation, punches, swinging without hesitation Snooping around, no buried treasure, It's just sunken ships and pleasures, It's the simple things that up a foundation, a mound of patience gets you a pound of waiting. I'm hating cause there ain't much in my life, it's drugs, jobs, and a bundle of gripes. (What?) you heard, it's a modern condition, A of glitches, and a mob of bitching. A of adversaries, the more the merrier, I ain't going without a fight til' my burial, You the barrier, and fell off it's spokes, Now it's tumbling down and it's the folks.
(Chorus)
these ailments come along with the territory, A better story, now you're me what's better for me. Mellow shorty, wanna with the kin(?) folks. weed and be down with those inside jokes. (haha) Bubble(?) of mischief, let's you to the disco, There's talk of the demo, but no disc, though. Provoke Panic, how strange demand it, In a of millions, how one can feel STRANDED. to the heart, now one can feel the tempo, One empty and one written-verse memento. All in all, Still like a good day, One ice cube for this pain tooth-ache. on a monday, the Misses is still snoring, Ignoring the foley, is soaring, Designing women with a fat ass like Burke, Working girls find time just to make it work. to the drawing board, her vaguely, Jot a mock, frown, Why the long face, B? Neglect is heard, I must have been or something, Curdling, The wound is now settling. In stitches, the hand counts riches, Was it as hard, they broke his spirit, Only time will tell, they've began to hear it. The mic store it, You can't near it.