album cover
MELATONIN
Hip-Hop/Rap
MELATONIN was released on July 26, 2024 by Oat-Milk Records LLC as a part of the album ATCO TEA
album cover
Release DateJuly 26, 2024
LabelOat-Milk Records LLC
LanguageEnglish
Melodicness
Acousticness
Valence
Danceability
Energy
BPM92

Credits

COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Leo Aylmer Lampman V
Leo Aylmer Lampman V
Songwriter

Lyrics

"Hehehehehe hahaha"
"Tryna Holla at her...
Like **** she fresh off work she hungry!"
Check.
Most of yall need the tonin to be mello.
Especially after we hit your ear with this chello.
Hello?
It's not the AM, but the PM.
Natural sleep's the only thing that's got me sleeping.
Paying for sleep when sleep is free.
Your breath smells like Coffee, not Adam & Eve.
Can you Believe?
That these pharmaceuticals keep you in your cubicle?
I find that pretty critical.
I know, health don't matter after you reach the threshold.
It isn't personal.
The night has fallen and so have I.
I don't need help getting up, but in my dreams we linking up for sure.
Goodnight.
Now I know the night has fallen.
No sweet dreams with melatonin.
I stay Golden with my Cold Shower Special.
Write another verse like I'm riding in a herse,
Yo I swear I don't reherse.
My Outfit known to curse.
For all my young brothas, let me spread a little wisdom.
When ladies spread yo legs,
I call that little wisdom.
Yeah, I know I can't afford to go to sleep now.
I gotta make some money.
I gotta make a couple thou.
I worked too hard this year.
It's turning red in here.
I worked too hard this year, you know.
I never smelt such fear.
No body grab me here.
I can't see what is here.
I go.
Now I know the night has fallen.
No sweet dreams with melatonin.
Cashflow, the Bimbo, I been low.
More like Home Depot...
This bitch a creepo.
Nasty as peanut butter, or Oreo.
When I get a wife, we go to Rio.
Gotta keep the wealth private,
like the name of my Jet Pilot.
Only the first Episode.
We'll see where it goes.
I wipe my nose.
Couldn't do it on my Own.
Ever, never, ever, ever, ever.
His name is Joe.
Slow down. Joe is in the house.
There's enough to go around.
My ears ring to the sound of a needle-drop.
Vibrations make a balloon pop.
Full stop.
Have you ever seen RoboCop.
Turning the doornob and enter.
This is the Hip-hop Center.
I lent her my car battery.
It isn't flattery.
We are existing. Craigslisting, and enlisted.
When the time comes, I signed up.
This aint for fun. I missed it.
Picking up the crums of a lost generation.
Put your phone on vibration, and listen.
Here we are in the kitchen witnessing
Another victim of division.
A chicken
That we eat with buffalo sauce.
Her loss, making a cameo on cake boss.
Just to show the world we lost.
Who's lost in space?
Shoes lace them up. Pool soak it up.
I'm choking up watching The Whale in theatres.
But in the end we prevail.
Taking a little more time, another pinch of lime to go inside.
No one knows, location unknown.
Lampman Basement.
Champs can't fake it.
It makes mistakes and take it with you.
I feel the morning dew.
How could you be invisible wearing camoflage at walmart?
Don't stop.
Restart.
It's all in the art.
That's a fact.
And this is an artifact.
We're universally intact.
"How are you two making those noises?"
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Written by: Leo Aylmer Lampman V
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