Lyrics
Modus operandi, fucked up in NY
Could've popped a Xan
Hopped off of The Empire
Focus on the plan
Hope poverty stop botherin' me
Shell of a gaunt man
I'll sell this and stop groveling
Quarter pound of pasta in my fridge
Start gobbling, forks out of reach
Poor style of me, court callin' me
Their relationship to me is parasocial
I ain't called 'em back I'm barely local
Yall already know though!
There's a lot of air up in the ozone
Terrapin's the pattern
On my Patagucci, hold on
Paraphernalia smoke, pheromones
It's there on the coat, carryin' loads
No carrots, I done buried 'em all
When you delay gratification
It comes halfway then
Tongues smack
Lookin' at that one fat paycheck
One lap, young cats they think
They half way there, run it back
And listen what you made there later
Ordinary livin' and I'm off screen
Board a ferry trippin'
That's across seas
Sort of very gifted but that's on me
To do, do, do somethin' with it
Flew the coop, hun I'm kiddin'
But if you want opinion unsolicited?
You ain't even got to ask
You ain't even got to roll this shit
To see the greener pastures
Trailin' through the back woods
That's what, pray la luna pass
Sun deserted like prodigal son
Ran The Kessel in about ten parsecs
My Discord lookin' like my top ten stalkers
A bit coy, introverted, talk when awkward
And I'm locked in
Topper is the opps can't catch 'em
Pull up on the prowl playin' possum
Fully goin' wild Mufasa
Motherfucker row backwards
The drop off's comin' homie
God got somethin' on me
My own homies know
We floatin' in the madness
And mama told me there'd be days like this