Lyrics:

Fragile arrow sticking out of my heart, let me snap you in half and mix this blue can of paint with ya.  I want to illuminate dreams of hands and knees touching while we breathe through our noses nestled in each other’s ears.

I want to assign you some homework.  Watch and study the film “Silver Linings Playbook.”  Take notes, listen carefully.  I can draw several similarities.  The very last scene where Pat and Tiffany are sitting together on the recliner, that’s what I hope to see for myself in my dreams every single night.

Listen, I bet your lips are pursed tight imagining kissing me.  Forget waiting for Stinky Nikki.  I don’t wanna blame the shame on a name I’m afraid to say so I stand tall, still kicking as hard as I can to break free of the influence these trees have on me.  I twitterpate when I can’t see the realness in ‘er eyes.  Pupils dilated as we dance magic carpets to magic lands, we ride or die mf.  Take it.  Brand your chest with an S for Slim.  Check out my Tims.  Taking Hims to stand up straight. 

I’m no longer dating myself, writing fictitious letters that gets the cops calling.  Fans stay blowing down on me.  Catch a breeze off of my knees.  Bend over if you want me kissing your ass, nut.  I’m a turkey.  I peck and strut.  I wreck all who look at me expecting me to step.  I do reps that count.  This ain’t no cat show.  This is my life.  My wife’s about to deliver my babies in my dreams so hold tight.  I gotta fight the leeches causing me to lose track of the money coming in.  I got these income streams pumping and streaming into my accounts.  They keep multiplying in litters.  My cat’s a pussy and
I love to smash it.  It feels right. 

Don’t like it?  Do you from here to kingdom come, friend.  I’ll bench ya, I’ll mail you in for a discount on my EBT cards.  I’ll headfake ya into believing I’m stuck on ya.  I’ll move in where reassurance is present.  Gift me a gat and fall back.  I’ll take care of ya!  I’ll dust my hands off to free my lane of your DNA only if you really want me to.  We got my money on express, no sh!t she can do all the standing tall.  I’ll be in the clutch. 

I don’t know whatch-y’all heard about me..  My watches glisten.  I ignore listening if they’re listing charges.  My ass is DOA more often than not.  Don’t get caught, frothing my hot chocolate.  She’s my “a girl in clutch” too.  Focused on making ends meet and making victorious strolls around the ballpark, I’m like baby Ruth, butterfingers, I’m a grand slam out of this parking lot.  I’m a shot in the dark.  Her and I not stressing is a blessing.  Confessing to mistakes throws shade on the establishment.  Face it, they’d trade the world to see the insides of my eyelids as the rooster crows. 

Don’t fake it till you make it, don’t hide it while I ride it neither you stunting punk.  This side of the broadside of the barn is the front.  I muck up the print.  I hint at the blueprint to make sure my impact lasts.  Just tell me, I already documented it as a premonition last week.  EXCELSIOR!  Not fronting, dis’ peach reminds me of a future version of Miss Keech that I created in my dreams.  Stop messing bull, get yourself X’d I mean wrecked.