Chapter 10: Malik

Intro

I can see her, I can see us in my head

Between you and me and April Wine just for the night

I can see us, I can see us In my bed

Underneath just you and me the sheets and we let

The liquor do the thinking…..now I can see him…

Verse 1

Lost like a man with a goal, parents vacant, a lady chaser and vapid mamma loud as the aces is in his bike spoke

But “I would, yeah she’s that good”

Let the liquor do the thinkin’, we do the drinkin’

She’s later than a night of fun

She fueled, amused by the odour of

She knew them few choice brain cells but only one

She split between the means on her mind and the fear of what the mirror wants

She’s on the Kanye Workout Plan

Never short of praise, short attention span

In and out of gyms, in and out of beds, in and out of debt like loose ends. Malik?

Bloated on bullshit and defamation

When dad’s no go

Stark training every other weekend

When dad’s no go

Building walls impossible to defend

When dad’s no go

Dark days end in the basement, back just like a fat Jon Snow

Bridge

End scene, don’t follow me, want a head in a noose or head in a crown?

End scene, don’t follow me, want a head in a noose and be the heir to a throne?

Chorus

I’m just so glad you brought that up

Cocked back, choke it back and chalked it up

To think ‘bout that it gone and fucked em’ up

Like not enough, thanks, thanks for that. x2

Verse 2

Drunk as a man with a goal passed out on his ass like CanSkate

He’s the fat Jon Snow, the king in the North who can't skate

Dangle or deke a urinal puck or piss ring those who can’t do, can drink

And he’s the shit, he’s dog shit at the loneliest end of the rink

Hit the shower, pre game, crush a few brew, scrub up then crank one off like head trauma

Dirty valley, pit party out behind hide, Hanmer high

Higher than any power, higher than any calling

Minds a wasteland of french braids and tight waistbands

Dirty like his old man’s casualties he’s found guilty of pushing buttons and boundaries

Guilty of following the hoopla, ne touchez pas, 5 f’s then cut her loose like the prune does

He’s overrated, overstated, over-exaggerated, like his old man insecure inferior I can confirm cause I'm his old man

I’m toxic. Broke glass, a reflective surface. Tantrum? Had them, paid dearly for em' just like him

Embarrassed by him but what I fucken did right by him is a synonym, reflection of a reflection Escher’s hand drawing hands

A lot to say, nothing to say, nobody cares just like his old man's old man

Chorus

I'm just so glad you brought that up

Cocked back, choke it back and chalked it up

To think ‘bout that it gone and fucked em’ up

Like not enough, thanks, thanks for that

I'm just so glad you brought that up

Cocked back, choke it back and chalked it up

To think ‘bout that it gone and fucked em’ up

Like not enough, thanks, thanks for that’s my boy