Ah, hah hah hah ha
Aha ah ha ha ha ha
Ah, hah hah hah ha
Aha ah ha ha ha ha
Ah, hah hah hah ha
Yo
Throw it back to the backpack days,
On my bike with a spark and a snapback, haze
In the bag and the bag in my pocket
Back on the block, on the block I'm obnoxious
Sitting in my room with a broom fighting monsters
Pouring out liquor every sip is a must
Tryna clear my head and get conscious
But it's hard with all this dust
In the air, on my bed
In the corner, in my head
Looks like I'm just gonna have to live with the strangers
Come home see em touching all my shit
Maybe it's something they trying to tell me
Like why all this baggage atcha crib
You ain't touch this shit in 30 months
Why's it all on top of your shelf
What's that matter to you you f*cking punk
You should keep that shit to yourself
I was making this beat, what I saw that bee
So I paused that track and got on my feet
Threw a book at the wasp and erased his map
But I broke my window and the dust just laughed
Like
Ah, hah hah hah ha
Aha ah ha ha ha ha
Someone say something really gah damn funny
The soup
Chris why didn't you eat your soup
But dad
But, dad, I ate it
Oh, I loved my soup Mr. Gockman
In with the out crowd, down in the muck
Little bit of Jimi H, with the Ray Vaughn pluck
Capillaries bleed when they meet that steel
See the rojo drip I forgot I was real
When the light shine through my window
Whole gang of dust mites just might
Crack up when they hear my kin folk
Laugh on the Logic Pro sound byte
Askin' do I hit these notes with ease
Am I KB at the arc throwin' 3's
On a vibe transcribed through my syllable arrangement
Pain in my heart let me show you a painting
No Satie, no trois gymnopedies
Gettin' snapchats of your lady labia
Blow the dust off my encyclopedia
Let the dogs out and wake all the babies up
I don't think I have the capacity in my lungs
To blow the bunnies off my chest, better burn em' 451
Hope my whole room don't go up
Or they'll be calling 45
To the A-side window
Watching your brother burn alive
Cristofori Park - Dust King Lyrics
Cristofori Park - Dust King Lyrics
We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
Ah, hah hah hah ha
Aha ah ha ha ha ha
Ah, hah hah hah ha
Aha ah ha ha ha ha
Ah, hah hah hah ha
Yo
Throw it back to the backpack days,
On my bike with a spark and a snapback, haze
In the bag and the bag in my pocket
Back on the block, on the block I'm obnoxious
Sitting in my room with a broom fighting monsters
Pouring out liquor every sip is a must
Tryna clear my head and get conscious
But it's hard with all this dust
In the air, on my bed
In the corner, in my head
Looks like I'm just gonna have to live with the strangers
Come home see em touching all my shit
Maybe it's something they trying to tell me
Like why all this baggage atcha crib
You ain't touch this shit in 30 months
Why's it all on top of your shelf
What's that matter to you you f*cking punk
You should keep that shit to yourself
I was making this beat, what I saw that bee
So I paused that track and got on my feet
Threw a book at the wasp and erased his map
But I broke my window and the dust just laughed
Like
Ah, hah hah hah ha
Aha ah ha ha ha ha
Someone say something really gah damn funny
The soup
Chris why didn't you eat your soup
But dad
But, dad, I ate it
Oh, I loved my soup Mr. Gockman
In with the out crowd, down in the muck
Little bit of Jimi H, with the Ray Vaughn pluck
Capillaries bleed when they meet that steel
See the rojo drip I forgot I was real
When the light shine through my window
Whole gang of dust mites just might
Crack up when they hear my kin folk
Laugh on the Logic Pro sound byte
Askin' do I hit these notes with ease
Am I KB at the arc throwin' 3's
On a vibe transcribed through my syllable arrangement
Pain in my heart let me show you a painting
No Satie, no trois gymnopedies
Gettin' snapchats of your lady labia
Blow the dust off my encyclopedia
Let the dogs out and wake all the babies up
I don't think I have the capacity in my lungs
To blow the bunnies off my chest, better burn em' 451
Hope my whole room don't go up
Or they'll be calling 45
To the A-side window
Watching your brother burn alive
Aha ah ha ha ha ha
Ah, hah hah hah ha
Aha ah ha ha ha ha
Ah, hah hah hah ha
Yo
Throw it back to the backpack days,
On my bike with a spark and a snapback, haze
In the bag and the bag in my pocket
Back on the block, on the block I'm obnoxious
Sitting in my room with a broom fighting monsters
Pouring out liquor every sip is a must
Tryna clear my head and get conscious
But it's hard with all this dust
In the air, on my bed
In the corner, in my head
Looks like I'm just gonna have to live with the strangers
Come home see em touching all my shit
Maybe it's something they trying to tell me
Like why all this baggage atcha crib
You ain't touch this shit in 30 months
Why's it all on top of your shelf
What's that matter to you you f*cking punk
You should keep that shit to yourself
I was making this beat, what I saw that bee
So I paused that track and got on my feet
Threw a book at the wasp and erased his map
But I broke my window and the dust just laughed
Like
Ah, hah hah hah ha
Aha ah ha ha ha ha
Someone say something really gah damn funny
The soup
Chris why didn't you eat your soup
But dad
But, dad, I ate it
Oh, I loved my soup Mr. Gockman
In with the out crowd, down in the muck
Little bit of Jimi H, with the Ray Vaughn pluck
Capillaries bleed when they meet that steel
See the rojo drip I forgot I was real
When the light shine through my window
Whole gang of dust mites just might
Crack up when they hear my kin folk
Laugh on the Logic Pro sound byte
Askin' do I hit these notes with ease
Am I KB at the arc throwin' 3's
On a vibe transcribed through my syllable arrangement
Pain in my heart let me show you a painting
No Satie, no trois gymnopedies
Gettin' snapchats of your lady labia
Blow the dust off my encyclopedia
Let the dogs out and wake all the babies up
I don't think I have the capacity in my lungs
To blow the bunnies off my chest, better burn em' 451
Hope my whole room don't go up
Or they'll be calling 45
To the A-side window
Watching your brother burn alive
Writer: Zach Schneeberger
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid