BUILDING BLUEPRINT
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Lyrical Analysis of...
Banana Peels Collab wit Lucy
- //Moo$e Verse
- #RapPad niggas we tripping, we spitting without no writtens
- Smitten with legends of far days past
- Like a spell cast falling into our own mind traps
- We ain't finishing last we the fast and the furious
- Mind spinning on that luxurious, if its death to the curious
- We zombies and we numerous, ideas illuminous
- Illusionists on every street corner, former living, but dead no more,
- Loner on nobody's sonar
- meds made my friends in my head fend
- For themselves, a neurotic commonwealth, chaotic past twelve
- Knelt before myself, out of body out of mind
- But would you be so kind to tell me the time
- Dreamland, a sanity rehab where I freelance
- Look at my hand man, doping like Lance popping Vivanze
- Fucking trance in my sweatpants, the walls closing
- And we roaming like we Romans, fucking beat Ronins
- New emotions not knowing where I'm going, sipping codeine potions
- Words loaded, don't sugercoat it, don't you know it, it's time to overthrow it
- millennium of oblivion, hotboxing condominiums
- its an idiom fucking with your equilibrium
- rhymes so alien, they call us reptilians
- writing into the postmeridians, riding on fumes like we're indians
- They forget bout us till they need our assistance
- The key is persistence, maintaining our existence treating our minds like a mistress
- Arizona by the gallon, box full of ramen, Xbox full of Madden, a right brain substantially barren
- Ecstasy has the walls as soft as satin, as I involuntarily imagine
- A new world with no captain at the cannon
- not necessarily canon but what we lack in passion
- we make up in fashion and the way we imagine
- The way we ration, playing super smash bros as captain falcon
- Looking at my heart like its half full, I did my part when it's all bull
- But this shawty got a pull, got my heart feeling like its all null
- //Lucifer's Verse
- Roll the windows up, smokin' indo in the doors of my condo,
- relax and chill, I ain't out to drown my sorrow in that liquor bottle,
- just click and clack the semi auto, nah put the car in the throttle,
- probably wake up baked but wasted, shit face, painted tomorrow,
- I'm not that hollow, we just live our lives, don't wallow in our sorrow,
- the police can't stand the trippiness, they investigated like Gestapo,
- cop a couple games at the store then I hit it and get lost, yo,
- spittin' shit so trippy like a hippy but it's deeper than a pothole,
- reignin' like Chance Tha Acid King, dreams like acid, my motto,
- is I'm living everyday like I just won the motherfuckin' lotto,
- paintin' vivid pictures, wicked images like a lyrical Picasso,
- wakin' up everyday like I'm Sanford and Son, like I'm all Rollo,
- probably drive a stick shift or auto or souped up Monte Carlo,
- doesn't matter, get the munchies, grab a couple crunchy tacos,
- from the Bell, inhale well like the Devil, sleepin' deep as the foxholes,
- trippy's what I got yo, me and Moo$e prolly shoot a lot of O's
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