Chapped

Rain summoning, reign melange and bumbling If I were farming bumblebees, them shits be polka dotted Learning lessons from future stings; I only heard about it Think I'd be better at choosing things I keep the smoke about me and always about it Doesn't matter, liquid or solid Gas bag, I said it doesn't matter what state I'm in Belaboring every point, I never played the fence Enabling agents on occasions of purple rain, of sense How insane it is, I'm the Kane in this by definition Best admit I'm the best in this yet to mention If I were Sterling Brown, that'd make my snitch DJ Wilson I scratched my own DJ off a park bench from rich men At barmitzfas that which I'm pictured like Ms Finster Seymore Eeore, George Costanza of stanzas Pander for pandas but Britannica ain't a phantom dream Pythagorean pattern of Pangea find my ancestry Still, the questions go unanswered see When I lie still I'll see Spend my time haunting my future life for all the fuckery It fucks with me, I say it doesn't Every puff you'll see Been around the sun what feel like a trillion times Fall down ten but only gotten up for 9 Rain summoning, reign melange and bumbling If I were farming bumblebees, them shits be polka dotted From off the one, in one hand, I'm kinda glad I didn't Act of violence: punched some lines but shit, I never hit em Ask my quack, it's like the left is working on its own act of counter Premeditated but it won't counteract Pre-medicated for my powers back In my fist I been saving the mist of my anguish, right? The left's repayment aight, the big payback Catch me outside more now than where corners play at Still got memories of the corners I used to play at Polish up my new shades, adjust my wave cap Fine-tuning my cadence before Candice ever... hold up Name of the group we made, Soup got laid off No matter how well the plan got laid, still they fade off Made off with all that free game y'all still paying off Got showered in praises like the powers ever fade off Growing out my facial hair and shouts to Adolf