Night Table (Acapella)

[Intro: E-Dubble]
And let the drum machine, let the drum machine, let the drum machine just bang
Freestyle Friday, let it bang, and let it bang, and let it, yeah

[Verse 1: E-Dubble]
Spill a little paint on the backdrop
Nowadays the words feel like chalk on the blacktop
'Cause when it rains they gone, it's invisible ink
No sharpie or indellible stink
Avoid the middleman by not using pens and papers
Verbal contracts only mask the fear and hatred
Operate the way that makes you feel the safest
Plagiarized the status quo, you just cut and paste it
Uh, I say fuck the waitlist
If you don't want me now you must be fuckinh wasted
Success is a flavor I have not yet tasted
But its been a fucking ride and there is no debating
No sidelines for us, my lungs will bust
Before I put myself on the bench or pack it up
Pull yourself out of bed and try standing up
You got a lot of work to do, I hope you packed a lunch

[Chorus: Peter Muth]
Still in bed even though its light
'Cause i can't fight these dreams
I'm in some picture that don't look right
But its still nice to be seen
I pick my head off the pillow
I see my shoes on that floor
I can't find any good reason
But I'll still walk out that door

[E-Dubble]
Yeah, mister Peter Muth, thank you for singing the hook my friend
I'm gonna do another verse right now, thank you

[Verse 2: E-Dubble]
Never been the type to deal in any absolutes
Shades of gray so subtle and they absent truth
Relatively we're irrelevant but ask they youth
And the cynacism's gone like poof, vamoose
Goodbye
It seems so hard so why try
The bed's so easy when sleep's your high
The blinds collapse and then you close your eyes
And when you're in your dream there's no thorn in your side
Fuck that bullshit bring the troops in
No propriety left quit saluting
Grab the guns line 'em up and start shooting
And when the walls come down start looting
Break that glass till the windows smash, inhibitions pass
It's a metaphor don't be an ass
Top, top, top of the class
We don't do it for cash
Running on E, but mashing the gas
16 spitter no quitter not even
I will literally only stop if not breathing
Tryna wash your sins I'm a motherfucking heathen
I don't hate religion just what comes of extremism
All of that bleeding, I don't see the reason
Can't even tell which side is actually talking treason
Dreamin' of some day when we're even
You must be drunk off Colbert like you're Stephen
Jesus, please pack up and start leaving
Riding with my family I don't need no other demons
Seamless, opposite of what my jeans is
I'm driving under influence but I'm not weaving
No, no, I'm not weaving
No, no, I'm not weaving
No, no, I'm not weaving
I'm just winding through the cities, tryna keep shit even
Yeah, no, I'm not weaving
Freestyle Friday is even, E-V-A-N to E-V-E-N
Motherfucker, I'm not weaving