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letra de front desk - exum

[verse 1]
as i creep down the block like chocolate
twin blades, door handle equipped down
bought the building, i’m staying in course inn
only option for delinquent rapping and whoring
jumping like jordan assuming assumptions
my soul is for sale, psych, signature forging
herbal libido pick up the pack up to portland
witty engineers be quick to pack up the porcelain
packing and morphing, pack-pack-packing and morphing
wake as a newborn stacking sticky resourcements
as i unfold the the depths of my gold perception
jesus christ, this boy is good at dodging weapons
any sword formed against he
shall ricochet back at his hat and miss me
i’m draped in the cloak of the goat
my emotions turned up missing when i’m stroking hеr throat
oh no not her, that’s me
[chorus]
seen that girl on cary street
i hope shе remembers me (oh no, not her, that’s me)
a memory of a memory
i hope she feels the same (oh no, not her, that’s me)

[verse 2]
copy carbon
vintage military garments
couple industrial apartments
turn your mother to a pharmacist
your father to a novice
your shooter to a congressman
i like a lot of different levels, i’m not interested in moderate
she looking at the clock, but she know what time is
swimming in the wop with a bad pocahontas b-tch
zoom call industry, white america enemies
telling them i’m god-sent, he something like a kin to me
son, they must be kidding me, i orbit with the angels
i could talk you into -n-l, i’m to busy for a label
matter fact, this is not a white america
this is my america, f-cking on a erica
while trying to break the barrier from chinese, black peeps
muslims, setitsevsnart, ytoob stidnab
white folks, outlandish keep candid
shreddy boy, i’m romantic, it gets frantic
disrespectful and manic come underhanded
[chorus]
i’ll double dribble for the band, i know the codey
i’m from the west like brook, shoutout to brodie
he getting high off the hook, i keep it low-key
i’m in the city no security

[verse 3]
these chords working out like bowflex, i ain’t working out
knocking at your door with the tape to get the word out
if i don’t bring home a grammy she gon’ urk out
b-tch, i’m the academy, the talent and the top vote
i don’t need your academy to test ’cause i’m a top sco’
balling on a budget, balling like a nugget
hundred thousand worth of grudges, drop em’ like a bucket
gravy with the stuffing, life of three sabbaticals
a socialist, rational, republican, more laughable
a democrat’ll shat on you, so what the f-ck i’m suppose to do?
i’ll start a cult

- exum

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