(AMAR—)

I was sippin' codeine

Watching TV static paint ghosts on the screen

Life ain't what it seem

All these eyes in my blinds, like what the fuck that they done seen?

My reflection still faceless, countin' bands in the bog

Conversation all aimless, a thousand hands in the fog (Yeah)

Pull up like it's Gundam Wing, conies with the onion rings

Doin' shit that's bad for me, I ain't learned a fuckin' thing

Ninety in the fifty five, moving with a ton of ping

It ain't that deep, it ain't that deep, I wrote it cause it's fun to sing

Slidin', it ain't quantized, this some shit to archive

Blockbuster, Tony Hawk, skater with the Pharcyde

Number two, large fry, smokin' till my heart die

The day that Owen Hart died

Fifty bag of Thrax, so much gas, it make a car cry

Cut ‘em too much slack, they on my back, I'm where the stars lie

The fake, the hundred yard drive

Y'all must forgot the DDT to dust a crop

I had to turn it up a notch, how about can we fuckin' not?

Counting every scream like it's sheep hopping pickets

Late nights up in the dungeon, tryin' to sleep off the rickets

Try to tee off, it’s crickets, hold the applause please

The product underwhelms, but your boldness appalls me

I was sippin' codeine

Watching TV static paint ghosts on the screen

Life ain't what it seem

All these eyes in my blinds, like what the fuck that they done seen?

My reflection still faceless, countin' bands in the bog

Conversation all aimless, a thousand hands in the fog