EarthGang, Mac Miller — Monday
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Текст EarthGang, Mac Miller — Monday
It’s Friday morning
A 150 with the kiddies on the school bus, everybody’s on it
I got my diploma
Standing in line, I pray to God I hope they choose us
Or I’m back on the corner
It’s Friday morning
A 150 with the kiddies on the school bus, everybody’s on it
Don’t know what I’m on to
But somethings shouting it’s telling me
«We can’t stay here», everybody’s goners
Another 360, another 24
Another revolution, think the Earth mimicking me
Finding more similarities with cosmic energy
The morning vis à vis with the joint increasing my synergy
Me? I’m feeling like I’m everywhere there’s ever been
At once when the terror takes his baby jumps beneath my feet
Back to this old job again, back to this old J-O-B
I wonderin’ why my papa put me on this turning thing
Or while I’m pondering life, let me go get this burner clean
The baby’s will be up sooner you think, with hunger pains
So how’s it, how’s it, how’s it that everybody who was here this time last year ain’t make it this time around, so say thanks
Biggie you got’s to hear me now, you only got t-minus 15 before it’s back into the wild
Snakes they nipping at ya feet, might even peep a sheep howl
I’m banging on the hoods of trains and trash cans just to catch the beat
And never take for granted where you be
Know it’s like a junkyard now might be the safest place to sleep, but that’s just temporarily
I’m at ya hair like that home perm kits
See I’m been in the crew, but ain’t got no long term vision
Sound like what’s plaguing you, you, and you, and her, and him, and
We’s at the school and she watching us
It’s Friday morning
A 150 with the kiddies on the school bus, everybody’s on it
I got my diploma
Standing in line, I pray to God I hope they choose us
Or I’m back on the corner
It’s Friday morning
A 150 with the kiddies on the school bus, everybody’s on it
Don’t know what I’m on to
But somethings shouting it’s telling me
«We can’t stay here», everybody’s goners
Well, I hope your hatin’ ass smell the smoke before the fienders walk in
My blood stream; full of burning leaves
Touch screen for the birds and bees, get my options up
We love to trap the thirst, but hate who might be watching us
Sacrifices offered up
Wifing is the alternate to nutting off in all the sluts
They love whoever they around, but probably fucking all of us
Listen close, hear a nigga ego fall to pieces
Bitch, put something on ya feet and get to sweeping
Ask me do I understand, I say «bitch do you capiche?»
Try me like a piece of shit and now I’m forced to be facetious
You can make a masterpiece, they be like «yeah, but who’s ya feature?»
Nigga, I’m my fucking feature, who the fuck are you to me?
Remember knuckles used to be the tool of choice
As little boys we used to use ’em just to prove that we was man enough, no matter what the damage was
She dancing on the dick, she even let me use the camera
And everything was cool until they kicked us outta Canada
It’s Friday morning
A 150 with the kiddies on the school bus, everybody’s on it
I got my diploma
Standing in line, I pray to God I hope they choose us
Or I’m back on the corner
It’s Friday morning
A 150 with the kiddies on the school bus, everybody’s on it
Don’t know what I’m on to
But somethings shouting it’s telling me
«We can’t stay here», everybody’s goners
Before I started, regarded as one of the hardest in the yard
No money from a job, I was distracted by these broads
She said «you want that pussy then walk the plank» and
I dove into that ocean, I saw her naked
In the Hall of Angels, chasing lion, tigers, caught a bengal
Let’s finagle the bagel, ready, willing, and able
Fillin’ ya cable with destructions, spontaneous combustion
Alien abductions, plus what the fucks in, platinum plus rappers
Say «hi» when you see me, won’t be say nothing after
I’m a motherfucking bastard, uh
Master of disguise, word to the wise: don’t fuck with me
You the rich and comfortably, we out back: dungaree
Motherfucker please don’t even think to try me
My mind is somewhere else, they pumping «crazy» in my IV
Yeah
It’s Friday morning
A 150 with the kiddies on the school bus, everybody’s on it
I got my diploma
Standing in line, I pray to God I hope they choose us
Or I’m back on the corner
It’s Friday morning
A 150 with the kiddies on the school bus, everybody’s on it
Don’t know what I’m on to
But somethings shouting it’s telling me
«We can’t stay here», everybody’s goners
