Back to Top

Coyote on Michigan Ave Video (MV)




Performed By: Sam
Language: English
Length: 1:05
Written by: Sam Baylow




Sam - Coyote on Michigan Ave Lyrics
Official




A stray bruised banana is all that he can have
Walk around with an anklet and a Minecraft T-shirt
Knees hurt, cheeks worse, my words cooked in reverb
Need cue cards for some two minute small talk
Hug the punch bowl, whiter than a stick of chalk
Every moment a press conference, I'm Jared Kushner
Act like Mayor Pete tryna look cool in a gay bar
Bitten nails, battle scars, chase my tail, stay in jail
Roll doubles, talk rubble, Mom's Honda, plead for bail
I've been murdered by the brain, call me Meryll Sheppard
Our bodies in bed, dead, at least she left bite marks
This canned clam chowder makes me 'fraid of door handles
So I sit on my talc chair and call for my panel
They reassure grandeur, but pander leads to slander
Then these friends, might be pretend, slowly tatter
I've been social distancing since freshman year
My dream whip a self-driving Uber neutral gear
The only way to stop the cycle: turn the washer off
Let me be a lump of wet socks no one wants to touch
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these 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.




A stray bruised banana is all that he can have
Walk around with an anklet and a Minecraft T-shirt
Knees hurt, cheeks worse, my words cooked in reverb
Need cue cards for some two minute small talk
Hug the punch bowl, whiter than a stick of chalk
Every moment a press conference, I'm Jared Kushner
Act like Mayor Pete tryna look cool in a gay bar
Bitten nails, battle scars, chase my tail, stay in jail
Roll doubles, talk rubble, Mom's Honda, plead for bail
I've been murdered by the brain, call me Meryll Sheppard
Our bodies in bed, dead, at least she left bite marks
This canned clam chowder makes me 'fraid of door handles
So I sit on my talc chair and call for my panel
They reassure grandeur, but pander leads to slander
Then these friends, might be pretend, slowly tatter
I've been social distancing since freshman year
My dream whip a self-driving Uber neutral gear
The only way to stop the cycle: turn the washer off
Let me be a lump of wet socks no one wants to touch
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Sam Baylow
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

Back to: Sam

Tags:
No tags yet