Still ecstatic, ain’t a bit happy

Plan the vigil, only vegetable who still active

Peeling back the skin, reveal the knick knacks and paddy whacks

I’m whipping out my phone and wondering which ex would take me back

Give me your full attention, hand over all conventions

Conceal the same disdain they’d never be so bold to mention

It’s hardly sleep, cause know this hardly been a body

This a vessel I’m controlling from the fourth dimension, obviously

Probably the prophet of my posse

Ask me for advice, I tell ‘em wise up, shut the fuck up if you lock in

Tossing, doing tumbles in my top sheet

This tax season cost me

Now everything a risk, bitch

Now everything is costly

People gossip, people talk

Move like "yes sir" at the job, and act an asshole off the clock

Wanna call it lacking boundaries, rather call it moving smart

Cause information like a wine, surprise, I’m popping off the cork

If you a rapper & legally bound to use the word “algorithm”, we’re legally allowed to come and beat you to death

I don’t make the rules. but still do a thorough job

Look like Joey Burrow with my fur coat on, fuck it drop a Burrow Bomb

Number 9, I try but tend to see the pot and stir it up

I must think I’m Ben, I throw a party when my girl gone

Not a real person, run inside the Erewhon

Piss on every popstar and celeb I can square up on

Living through just one season

Timing is such a motherfucker, Monday’s like my weekend

Tuesday’s like my weekend, Wednesday’s like my weekend

Thursday’s like my weekend, so tap right into the frequence

Yeah wake up, think of dying, sleep, then go repeat the sequence

It’s fucked, this situation is fun, tryna race me to the deep end? I won

Got a smoke on you? I’m feening, yeah ash it like a priest, yeah these heads are getting touched

Don’t your soul feel extra clean?

I’m in a trance, salute the hangman

I am just what I am

Yazzy going bam bam, alties going bam bam

Spin the corner bossy, pop the tires, peeling off, I break the wheel of the Trans Am

Ahhhhhhhhh, applause, doing too much, but ain’t done too much at all

Singing to the beast, the beast repeat the call, but sometimes it feel like I’m screaming at the wall

Stuff it in a box, split it with a saw now, come pull the ribbons from the inside of my jaw, clown

Sit and spin before the best trick yet, flick a wand to float a mind but mine’ll go before the fall down

I’m chasing phantoms with the engine of a semi-truck, you take the wheel of this old menace, I’m already stuffed

St. Glutton’s Soldier, feeding fantasies to any of ya, but how can I explain that I feel everything to every one?