Lyrics:
desperate
A little bit manic
But I wouldn’t change it
Nah nah nah
I’m always gonna be the type, be the type, by type who’s
Needy
Desperate
Manic
But I like
Hello
My name is Rowan Gaelen
These are my confessions
And my revelations
As I write this, it’s the 14th of June, 7PM on the moon
I’m moving station
Money on my phone, like, "hello, who 'dis?"
Women want a loan, so they expose loose tits
Fresh out my digestion, boy, I got new shit
And my feces is
This is the school we call ""our life""
Life is hard in the 4th grade
Ain't easy to survive when King Bob reigns
Life will never be the same
when you've
yourself
So you don't know what that mean, a'ight?
Who suped you up to do the record in the first place?
It lacked taste, you get "The Gas Face"
I guess it didn't work on "4 3 2 1"
You got out done by Canibus the young gun
Your last weapon, is to call out Wyclef Jean
Not knowing that you
and the locks face eventual corrosion
That shapeshifts the rust, statics in the resurrection
(Coughs) Hold up
Okay, hit it
Yep yep, "who's that?" It's the timid
teeth.
The time had come, and Bob realized it,
And Scrooge let go with bother his clerk
Who, with a smile, quickly sprang to his feet
And ran towards his
up, write another song
that’s a bright idea, i think they got it wrong
i’m inspired in the early morning
like 1pm, should i show you more
slow down,
live and direct without further adieu
I bring to you Redman one more time
This is Jeff Stewart and you know how I do it god damn!
So who's that
that album
The Score by The Fugees
Or Bob Marley's greatest hits
The Legend album
Or the Blueprint
Or Abbey Road
Or something that
When you hear it
her rich friends to know the truth
But me and her both know all the facts
She's in love with the brother from the ghetto, who is black
My seven
Of advancing to the next phase or is it case by case
If so
How much should knowledge of self weigh
When I calculate they grade
9/11ths
Who blew them explosives,
tremble
But the dreadlocks say, fear not
Stamp foot and flatten a raindrop
For in Bob and his children's temple
It is strictly reality we are dealing
It ain't nothing but a party here
From the early evening til the break of day
So step this way and let your mind be free
And by the way "welcome
mind your business
I'm a connoisseur better check my monitor
Had it all from the dirt
I was groomed by the block
Could put your face on a shirt
I was
the future
The location is planet Earth
The time and date is 1999, December 31st
11:59 p.m., the anticipation of what I think's
About to happen got my
Right. Help?!? You know, you say 'Check, please!' But you can't get by in Czech. This guy's struggling in English and he's making it! And he's, he is, he
Light up the broccoli kid
Throw the relish in my back pocket
Keep your eyes open, push your seat back, just flow
That's how we doing it
Bound by
with feeling! Once more, with feeling!
Everybody wants high society is what I'm told by people who scream in my face. I love romance on the dance floor,
broads (Legalized)
8PM inside the club (Legalized)
Rabayeezy we here to flex (Flex)
It's the season for who is next (Next)
Young and pimping with pimples
knees and bless me with a gem in the Caribbean
Skiin' off by P.M.
Snatch Canadian cream with Scandinavians
Fellatium style, play it like thirty two
what they say
So feel free to drop by, if you wanna pay a visit
Heard some knockin' at the door, pause the Netflix, yo who is it?
But when I got
a hand
When all we were taught to do is dance
Who'll be able to stand after this avalanche
3pm. Blue as a road sign,
With a gag and some cheap wine
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