You motherf*ckers make me nauseous
Barely making shit, moving cautious
It's obnoxious
The way you claiming that you ain't toxic
Pictures left by my windowsill, baby, they erotic
I've got addictions and I'm hoping I don't relapse
I'm sorry but I'm smoking, wave goodbye to my kneecaps
My body constantly decaying, look in the mirror, don't see that
Cause my mental state just fluctuates
Turning into a country
I keep that big brain energy, steady so comfy
I'm in my bag of maggots
Tabernacle burnt to ashes
Crusty ankles, dirty passes
Weird glances from daily passengers
Dilute the sound, naw, you can't hear the vision
Blurry as the glasses in the cold
Frostbite on the tip of my tongue, I lick your soul
Throw away the drugs, watch it trickling full into that vomit ridden toilet bowl
Then say what's up to friends, don't ever address the mental tolls, ugh
Steadily so low, keep it pushing solo
Broke the brakes off the bike, bruh, I can't stop
Be careful round me, cause you know I keep that, keep that pan hot
I could
Send you the stems, but I can't send you the roots
Watch me extend my arm to offer labor made fruits
You just keep, twisting and turning
I flop in my sleep
I think today is gonna rain, hooray, I don't have to speak
Public necessities give me suicidal tendencies
Wish I could see my brother but it's a distance between us
I don't like relationships, but the ones I have, I'm a fiend, ugh
I don't resonate with regularity, it's clear to see, bruh
Dropped calls, bottles fall, on the concrete
Dropped calls, bottles fall, on the concrete
Dropped calls, bottles fall, on the concrete
Dropped calls, bottles fall, on the concrete
Box chested baby, said I think I got dysmorphia
Whatchu think you know, I see the lies straight through my cornea
I filter through the bullshit with Bitcrusher then I decay
It's not that I don't give a f*ck, but you so concerned with what he say
Dent Jusay, devotions right in my home
Right next to Illmatic CDs, everything's chrome
Cause it's the future, you stuck in the past
I'm in 2099, just smoking some gas
Get your, head out your ass, put your foot to the gas
Get your, head out your ass, put your foot to the gas
MF Zeph - Doomsday Symposium Lyrics
MF Zeph - Doomsday Symposium Lyrics
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We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
You motherf*ckers make me nauseous
Barely making shit, moving cautious
It's obnoxious
The way you claiming that you ain't toxic
Pictures left by my windowsill, baby, they erotic
I've got addictions and I'm hoping I don't relapse
I'm sorry but I'm smoking, wave goodbye to my kneecaps
My body constantly decaying, look in the mirror, don't see that
Cause my mental state just fluctuates
Turning into a country
I keep that big brain energy, steady so comfy
I'm in my bag of maggots
Tabernacle burnt to ashes
Crusty ankles, dirty passes
Weird glances from daily passengers
Dilute the sound, naw, you can't hear the vision
Blurry as the glasses in the cold
Frostbite on the tip of my tongue, I lick your soul
Throw away the drugs, watch it trickling full into that vomit ridden toilet bowl
Then say what's up to friends, don't ever address the mental tolls, ugh
Steadily so low, keep it pushing solo
Broke the brakes off the bike, bruh, I can't stop
Be careful round me, cause you know I keep that, keep that pan hot
I could
Send you the stems, but I can't send you the roots
Watch me extend my arm to offer labor made fruits
You just keep, twisting and turning
I flop in my sleep
I think today is gonna rain, hooray, I don't have to speak
Public necessities give me suicidal tendencies
Wish I could see my brother but it's a distance between us
I don't like relationships, but the ones I have, I'm a fiend, ugh
I don't resonate with regularity, it's clear to see, bruh
Dropped calls, bottles fall, on the concrete
Dropped calls, bottles fall, on the concrete
Dropped calls, bottles fall, on the concrete
Dropped calls, bottles fall, on the concrete
Box chested baby, said I think I got dysmorphia
Whatchu think you know, I see the lies straight through my cornea
I filter through the bullshit with Bitcrusher then I decay
It's not that I don't give a f*ck, but you so concerned with what he say
Dent Jusay, devotions right in my home
Right next to Illmatic CDs, everything's chrome
Cause it's the future, you stuck in the past
I'm in 2099, just smoking some gas
Get your, head out your ass, put your foot to the gas
Get your, head out your ass, put your foot to the gas
Barely making shit, moving cautious
It's obnoxious
The way you claiming that you ain't toxic
Pictures left by my windowsill, baby, they erotic
I've got addictions and I'm hoping I don't relapse
I'm sorry but I'm smoking, wave goodbye to my kneecaps
My body constantly decaying, look in the mirror, don't see that
Cause my mental state just fluctuates
Turning into a country
I keep that big brain energy, steady so comfy
I'm in my bag of maggots
Tabernacle burnt to ashes
Crusty ankles, dirty passes
Weird glances from daily passengers
Dilute the sound, naw, you can't hear the vision
Blurry as the glasses in the cold
Frostbite on the tip of my tongue, I lick your soul
Throw away the drugs, watch it trickling full into that vomit ridden toilet bowl
Then say what's up to friends, don't ever address the mental tolls, ugh
Steadily so low, keep it pushing solo
Broke the brakes off the bike, bruh, I can't stop
Be careful round me, cause you know I keep that, keep that pan hot
I could
Send you the stems, but I can't send you the roots
Watch me extend my arm to offer labor made fruits
You just keep, twisting and turning
I flop in my sleep
I think today is gonna rain, hooray, I don't have to speak
Public necessities give me suicidal tendencies
Wish I could see my brother but it's a distance between us
I don't like relationships, but the ones I have, I'm a fiend, ugh
I don't resonate with regularity, it's clear to see, bruh
Dropped calls, bottles fall, on the concrete
Dropped calls, bottles fall, on the concrete
Dropped calls, bottles fall, on the concrete
Dropped calls, bottles fall, on the concrete
Box chested baby, said I think I got dysmorphia
Whatchu think you know, I see the lies straight through my cornea
I filter through the bullshit with Bitcrusher then I decay
It's not that I don't give a f*ck, but you so concerned with what he say
Dent Jusay, devotions right in my home
Right next to Illmatic CDs, everything's chrome
Cause it's the future, you stuck in the past
I'm in 2099, just smoking some gas
Get your, head out your ass, put your foot to the gas
Get your, head out your ass, put your foot to the gas
Writer: Matthew Taylor
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid