Don't be makin' fun of him, you goofy lookin' son of bitch

The fuck is this redundant shit? I'll buck and kick your bucket list

Or suck and lick your mother's tit, I'm on my motherfuckin' shtick

Memphis be home to the boys, all the fam is in the NEMS

Wish my messages would send, late to pay my bill again

Missed it by a day or 2, pay it by September 10

Afterwards I enter zen, Eminem but feminine

I'll wear ya momma pussy out then put some makeup on my chin

Hate to break it to ya, friend, time's been catching up with him

Maybe you can save it when these days turn into days again

Pay turns into stable trends, make this into able bodied income

Keep an eye out when Sym' come

It would take me hours to explain it

Better yet a novel wrote after my powers fainted

Maybe something written on the pavement

I haven't even started, but the chapter starts a statement

And maybe even better if I scribbled it on parchment

My memory's been starched since my family was in Parchman

That's dark, Sym, traversing the Cascades without a harness

I'm harmless. 'Less you wanna throw me to the darkness

But hark this, I'll show you how to make a dollar daily

Nevermind, mistakes were made and they refuse to pay me

The greener grass is eaten by the black sheep labeled Bailey

But maybe it's a way to find an answer to it lately

But what "it" is is a mystery itself

You take your talents and they lay forgotten on a shelf

The room is darker now than it was about a year ago

Now name the reason that the wind blow: Sympho

THIS IS IT, what you waited, it's all here and shit, every little scrap and crumb of it is here, I promise. Production handled and squared abay-squared away by LordByronSound, recordin in a small mountain town on some South Park shit by Jontae Montana, thank ya both. Shoutout La'Goatee: KLR, Cody, Lauren, Mr. Treez, Nxvx, and Mr. Mothafuckin Kliksta. This is Sympho, Gordon Harvey, Trevor, whatever tickles your pickle, we're gonna ease into this next joint like ya pop in ya momma, let's get it