1. |
||||
2. |
Ain't Got Enough
04:00
|
|||
west bay
bonifay
month of may
that summer sun game
rolling on with that
cardboard box life, I'm
looking at these girls like I ain’t in
need of a wife, got that
high school game on lock, don’t even
know what that means, but I
say it ‘cause I hope it’ll get me some
cred with my teens. I still
search for her who holds in her fists
the end of her sleeves, that
magic girl, living in au-
tumn and in the leaves, and my
culture says, “naw, man, you
better stay away,” or
else, “go for it homie, you got
nothing to pay.” I ain’t
getting nothing useful from the
actions of my peers, they be
drinking or else driving or else ab-
staining from the beers. y’all are
black, huh? y’all
got that good genetics, get these
white girls dancing, I wanna
up the frenetic-
ness, it’s becoming static, and I
think that’s problematic, my
jam is in the club, my re-
ligion the ascetic, right
making time en-
ough to bide, I’m
killing it, I’m killing it
you’re my Holy Spirit, baby,
you’re my Holy Spirit
now let’s
move from the general down
to particulurr, we know we
all got problems, but I’m sure
that you would prefer
yours to mine: the up-
ward climb, the broken bine,
the pain sublime, the
rushing time. now I’m
thinking of her, and wond'ring
what we could have been.
whatever happened to us
lying on the trampoline?
are you feeling I’m pro-
xemic and yet still not seen?
I can’t compete with him, I
guess I’ll let y’all be. it’s a
quandary, man, it’s true I’m
fighting for my life. an-
xiety keeps on inflicting
me with that knife wound, it's
all blowing up, this shit is
right in my face, but three
months, we be gone, I’ll for-
get it anyway. hashtag i’m
smarter than you, hashtag
better than you hashtag
better than all of your little
friends could ever do, I ain’t
trying to fuck around, I’m just
stating a fact. holding a
grudge for 50 months? yeah, I’m
faster than that
aint’ got enough in my
cup to fill it
in my cup to fill it
you’re my Holy Spirit, baby,
you’re my Holy Spirit
making time en-
ough to bide, I’m
killing it, I’m killing it
you’re my Holy Spirit, baby,
you’re my Holy Spirit
|
||||
3. |
Good Luck W' Dat, Bruh
04:12
|
|||
4. |
Mr. Mason Punk
03:01
|
|||
5. |
From The Melting
03:57
|
|||
waking up on Resurrection Sunday
for the time being I’m feeling kinda OK
skin so dry I might just die from the melting, I’d
burn for a pelt that’s not as friggin’ sweltering
scared of these church people underneath the steeple, my b-
ody feeling feeble, it’s like they’re evil, I’m not sure what they’re
preaching is correct, the sanctuary bedecked
readin' from the text like they know what’s comin’ next
but fuck, they don’t know shit about the future, “vor-
lesen” all their “Bücher,” all they know is a world of
creatures and not the Creator. all I think about is
sex and death, makin’ love and then letting out our breath
they make one sacred and the other a facade,
our final enemy before we meet the face of God
but what’s the matter with a little sleep between friends?
is anyone scared of the terror permanent sleep lends?
keep me far away from eternal things, they’re
just as obnoxious as my hormonal, internal dings.
ding, ding, ding, ding
|
||||
6. |
||||
7. |
||||
I’ve been comparing my wrists to check for disease
it’s hard to keep going, faced with troubles like these
that hypochondriac game is never attractive
I keep saying stuff that should seriously be redacted
there’s beautiful girls all over the world, they say
including Temple and Grove and Liberty and the places I could stay
I’m hoping I’ll find someone like me before I perish
new wine shall make all these young women flourish
but it ain’t that easy, we all know that
this is my brain on academia, it’s a fact
always timid, body frigid, never courageous,
ignoring the strength Jesus gave us throughout the ages
stats and stories they give us a faux need
to believe in the trend that we all get matrimonied
I’m not apt to trust it completely, it’s true,
but it’s enough for me to hope in a bolt out of the blue
walking together, sleeping together, moving as one
adjusting the straps of our headphones in the sun
breakfast in the morning with the tea and toast
movies at night with the girl I love the most
5’6”, black hair, brown eyes: that’s her
I try to keep my eyes off her thighs, you can be sure
ain’t no one come close yet, believe me I’ve looked
ENTP, she completes me, I’m hooked
I often find myself wishing she’d come over
we could eat pizza and lie beneath the covers
it’s not delivery, it’s in your oven
it’s not Digiornos... it’s depression
preparing to rest, she doesn't bother to dress
my body to caress, but still passing the test
we still virgins but that could change at any time
I be hers and she be mine in time, that’s right
|
Streaming and Download help
If you like wilberforce, you may also like:
Bandcamp Daily your guide to the world of Bandcamp