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lyrics
An ode to the origin of the windfalls,
falling into form with all the oaths taken insults
Solvent for the minute, I’mma finish all the stencils
Hearing all the cynics, talking about the finer printing
And so I mind my business, never question when I’m winning,
only when I lose it all do I complain about the finish,
only start when I can quit before it gets too pitted,
and then I'm climbing out the well, fingertips for the picking
Play guitar not so well, so I take another instrument,
dabble in the delves of how I got so ignorant
Patting myself on the back for the complicit in,
Unbeknownst to me, I'm enabling a fishing trip
Well that's an epiphany, I think I'll waste it all
Whether someone's tipping me or taking me the salt
Been delayed by the liberty to never get the call
When I lay down and look at these, delivery is dull
hook
Strikeout after strikeout,
almost bout to beat my lights out
almost bout to beat my lights out
almost bout to beat my lights out
Dropping in one at a time, still devouring a goldfish
Shadowing the old news, better lose my coping
Paddle in the kiddie pool, drowning in the open
Paid a lot of pitied fool's a shallow sum of soap dish
Washing out the beach house, got sand in the opus
Never owned my own shit, just dipping my toes in
He's been limping out of Georgia, got the mind on the ocean
Sitting on a sword, like he swallows it's orbit
Bag of chips on the floor, scratch the surface of orchids,
Making bets on the store, how they fucking the Porsches,
Ain't a left on the course, making par for the portions,
Either eat with your fork, or feed a flock full of forfeits
On the beat I'm so morbid, fill a decent assortment,
Got a lead on the tortoise, racing these to the shortest,
Stacking G's in the storage, free from the shreds of a swordfish
Knees to your head, await the state of the orifice
credits
from OK,
released March 21, 2017
Production: Handbook. Lyrics: Plainspoke.
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