Arcade
Verse 1:
Livin' life like minute by minute
Strong arm cynic
I pop eyes sans that spinach
Forearms big no tats bout business
Feelin' grown when I sip a glass of that Glenfiddich
Pronounce it right like an announcer might
Avoid missteps like a fuckin' towson fight
Cuz those cops like to lock you up and lose keys
Cipher in the cell police like who's he
I am- a lot less than what I strive for
Life stalled- but I got a lot to ride for
I know what truthfully holds the key
To my drive but my ride is rolling on e
And I don't feel a need to even fill my tank up
Life lookin bleek but I still say thank ya'
Cuz' all we got now is that fuckin' moment
Can't wait for great and you will not blow this
We live-
Chorus:
One day to the next day
No light living life in an arcade
Stop playing those games save that change
What you need a joystick for you are Pac Mayne
- runnin' circles, jumpin' hurdles
Playin' what you live but the real milk curdles
And that shit stinks, so stop drinkin' it
Can't you feel the lumps come on homey think a bit
Verse 2:
And I ain't with the frontin'
I'm tip-top hip-hop and I'm on to something
Tip of the chapeux to all those who know
What's really good with the music
In the veins it flows
And for me, it's more cuz' when it rains it snows
Overcast like a cloudy day is my prose
Like the weatherman couldn't predict this
Vernacular spectacular peep that diction
--- yeah so just peep that scripture
No bible, but I will, seek that wisdom
Humbled by real life, fumblin' to feel right
Gettin' hammered till I'm buried like a fuckin' steel spike
Weak reference, but keep guessin'
Next time around no room for any questions
No press conference and no interviews
Keep my head above water sans boat or inner tube like
We live-
Chorus:
Verse 3:
Top- ON, I don't have a convert
I got a car that works and that's my word
Point a to b I might converse
Shoelace express your best is still my worst
I'm not caked up, at least not yet
But I plan on baking better than the top chef
Cuz' I'll beat the best, no teacher's pet
I leven dough like a yeast infect
No massengill needed I couldn't never be douchey
Omnipresent everywhere stan tucci
Touché, parlez vous mon genre-
Hip-hop is good, live, breath it eat it all day
Eat, pray, love fuck it I'mma stay good
Put my people on a little like che would
But no marxist still shop at target
My revolution's quiet not silent like your farts is
Chorus: