Gba. - Intellectual

[Chorus]

Concerningly uncertain

Feeding the world serpent

It's not for you whom the world turns for

You can't wash your hands of this

Atlas couldn't handle the weight of my secrets

Never spoken, but you don't know I've told you so many times before

Through flinching, the wincing at nothing

Overprotective instincts

A shadow cannot exist in the dark, and so I dwell in it

A scream for help can't be heard during war, so why yell for it?

Run it

At a food truck, chatting with Zarathustra with his sick sense of humor

He said, "if God is dead, then we've all been crashing his funeral

Every day, we've been robbing his grave

I guеss his body fertilized the hyacinths."

If you ask thеm, all children born in the hood are sacrificial lambs so peace would still be sacrilege

You can't wash your hands of this

There are no answers

Here, theft is a crime of passion

We move work on the sabbath here, nigga

*sample*

I am a god, as jesus said [???] gods, I-

I had a stuffed tiger I told all my secrets

I knew it couldn't hear me, so when I talked, I could mean it

It's ironic how many ways we related

You see, it couldn't tell me no, either

They blamed themselves for the suicide, I told them, "don't beat yourself up, it was a team effort."

Cries for help drowned out by team Edward, or something just as inconsequential

The streets thirst for blood ain't quenchable

In the eyes of the law, all negroes are identical

The ego is untenable

So when I asked for help, all my problems were unamendable

Brushed off like an ad, or a gnat

I'm just a kid, all that matters is i don't press your buttons

So I'm playing niggas like a gba

You couldn't see them old screens in the dark

And you couldn't see me

So don't need nobody's approval for me to feel stable

No link cables