​meteor

Crash, buckle my knees
I feel like my seat is a meteor
I go crass and fuck on the seat
I don't even know what I mean to her
Bitch, if we crash, we're lucky to breathe
Confronting the grim
I'm loving my sleep
They logo'd my homie, they called him a leech
The logo just isn't attaching to me, please

I'm wearing blue on my ribbon
My blueberry drippin'
It's bluing my Burberry denim
I bury my early objections
I do not encourage materialism, I—
Wanna be one of the people, who go on a picnic
And lay in the grass when it's finished
I light up the path with an image of Summer '11
When I was eleven, wait—

Who is the main in the middle?
It's me, I'm a riddle
My motive is being a little ahead
New Era fitted, it don't really fit me
I turn it look at the back of my head
When I get older, I need me a garden
With roses, and lilies, and cala lilies
But I ain't ready to start it
But I ain't ready to—

Crash, buckle my knees
I feel like my seat is a meteor
I go crass and fuck on the seat
I don't even know what I mean to her
Bitch, if we crash, we're lucky to breathe
Confronting the grim
I'm loving my sleep
They logo'd my homie, they called him a leech
The logo just isn't attaching to me, please

I drink a mocha, my palate develop
Go pick out a movie, and see if it's—
I drink a mocha, my palate develop
Go pick out a movie, and see if it's—
I drink a mocha, my palate develop
Go pick out a movie, and see if it's— (De-e-e-e)
I drink a mocha, my palate develop
Go pick out a movie, and see if it's— (Dead!)

I drink a mocha, my palate develop
Go pick out a movie, and see if it's dead
New arapaima, I sneak up behind ya'
And use it to look in the back of your head
Choke up the focus, muhfuckers below us
Confusing the yeast with actual bread
I get inside ya', it's easy to find how to block out the pain
I make you forget