[Verse 1]
A glass of hite up in right hand, a camel in my left
Lifestyle menace to my lifespan, been handling the stress
A flannel on my chest, face is a blotchy mess
Yet most of Los Angeles is just chasing my sloppy seconds
Yeah, I said I’ve already been there
Shake my hand and smile, pretending that shit is sincere
When you’re needed you disappear into thin air
But we gon’ finish first by the tip of our chiny chin hairs
Nay-sayers need to sick a duck
Sip a fifth of what hit my lips when I tip the cup
City slicker mix hick sit listen up
Stomping through your stomping through your stomping ground singing I don’t give a fuck
But if I gotta say it then I kinda do
And if I’m lying to myself then why wouldn’t I lie to you
And hide the truth behind the guys of being mindless youth
Who keep counting they pigeons before they up and find the coup
[HOOK]
Yeah, it’s North Pole ’til the death of me
A little Los Angeles been sprinkle in the recipe
If you love something you suppose to set it free
So if I ain't calling darling I’m just tryna let it breathe
Yeah, it’s North Pole ’til the death of me
But the cityscapes sorta taking up the rest of me
If you love something you suppose to set it free
So if I ain't calling darling I’m just tryna let it breathe
Never quite sure why I’m waiting
That’s probably how I stay patient
I spend my days placing these names
To all these handshakes to match the blank faces
My nightmares tend to come true
As I run through the things I succumb to
Grind my teeth and sleep until my gums [?]
Just to say fuck right when I come to
[Verse 2]
I’m back on my Zach Morris steez
Calling timeouts and snapback to normalcy
Team Tui stacking fat stacks of pharaohs green
Sending with a tattoo symbol of that fleur de lis
Cause when them saints get to marching in
I’ll bet you I’m the last man standing with the heart to win
Steady laughing at your sadness ’til you start to grin
Acting like a martyr when you ain’t even a part of shit
Fronting like a half ass pacifist
Nothing but a hashtag activist
We’ll see who gets the last laugh after this
Treating my apartment like a crash pad, naps and shit
Cause I’m a stone cold loner
Motor home roller, roll cologne tone oder
The type to let your lady know you don’t own
And if she starts to act up I’m prone to go phone her