Lanes

[Verse 1]
Words are my currency, so why I got a change it?
Penny thoughts until the range fit
A car park a par mark
A far hark keeps running of the star bark
Never gave a fuck like a white girl wearing cornrows
I remain ground rooted you can see it through the burrows
I tighten my circles to find blue faces in my pocket
And I sense the buzz like a fork in a wall socket
So I be
Steady picking the pieces up
Of a man sweeter than a Reece's cup
I'm hot now y'all just putting your fleeces up
I keep it running Achilles ceases up
Cover myself in piercings so only I can crucify me
The ink drips red and a tail only I can lucify me
Got me in Adam & Eve fuck the fruit finna bite me
No 9 to 5's
Or, finalise
The box of lines
In a box of lies
Through stocks of tries
The popping needle cries
Need a counterweight to this direction
To stall a collapse from neglection

[Bridge]
Don't fuck around with the fake shit
I been moving round slow anxious
I've been running since the sun's up
Nothing can even fund us
Back by eleven no my brethren can't be missing me
Head in the clouds but my feet where the ceiling be
What the ceiling see

[Hook]
Running trains through my brain
Never thought that shit would change
Never thought it's in my range
Always swerving outta lanes

[Verse 2]
Dance with the devil and I think I fucking lost
Can't see straight need my windscreen to defrost
Never directed the perspective and points
The second shit's different it's just time outta joint
I've got acid for the back and forth
I'm smacking jaws, I'm asking yours
You should only be so lucky
Yes you should only be so lucky
I've been mature since mummy had me round in buggy
And now my eyebrows all sorts of sluggy
My parents don't ever get to hug me
I'm sort of lovely I'm short of thuggy I'm sort of rugby you'll be sure to love me
Buddy
1 of 1 more individual than it all seems
Perspective's illusive through all these green screens
I stick to today like recycled old Moe memes
Detracted from thoughts as the world spins slowly

[Bridge]
Don't fuck around with the fake shit
I been moving round slow anxious
I've been running since the sun's up
Nothing can even fund us
Back by eleven no my brethren can't be missing me
Head in the clouds but my feet where the ceiling be
What the ceiling see

[Chorus]
Running trains through my brain
Never thought that shit would change
Never thought it's in my range
Always swerving outta lanes

[Verse 3]
Fatalistically blessed though chronically stressed
Through the live I done test
To avoid the life I detest
No 9 to 5's
Or, finalise
The box of lines
In a box of lies
Through stocks of tries
The popping needle cries
Need a counterweight to this direction
To stall a collapse from neglection
Paranoia from people peeping the practices
Wouldn't want anyone reenacting this
I rehearse my self through some decorum
And to these viewers I wish to implore them
I wish to employ them

[Chorus]
Running trains through my brain
Never thought that shit would change
Never thought it's in my range
Always swerving outta lanes