PRIME MINISTER MADY TAL - Anxiety In Heaven

It's Thursday and I'm waiting for my money

I didn't hear it said in music
So I'll rap it for my young self
Adoption and all its
Vicarious, ambiguous
And secondary losses
I got anxiety and I'm
Living up in heaven
Fear of losing out,
On small twists and turns
Makes me see emotions
Wanna toss them
Nothing I could say can be new
But by shaping thoughts
Attention on me grew
Til I lost track of my first self
What first self, I was left on doorstep
That's my first self

I'll articulate it for my young self now
Couldn't watch you go now
Couldn't watch you go
I'll articulate it for my young self now
Who's that creeping through
the window of my soul
Who's that, who's that
Who's bad, who's bad
Who's that creeping through
The window of my soul
Who's bad, who's bad
Who's that creeping through the window of my soul

Needed structure,
Consider enlisting too
My inner mil gram rocked
To kill or to be killed
That'd make the choices simpler too
My inner thoughts, a clearer tune
Young nigger singing blues
Anxiety in heaven
Wanting to be loved too much
I gotta make the desert
In my mind, my idol says
Pour it the craft
Hoping I ain't rape or war
Child, When facts lacking
Creative power take a toll
No answers where to call
Cuz In minds anything goes

I'll articulate it for my young self now
Couldn't watch you go now
Couldn't watch you go
I'll articulate it for my young self now
Who's that creeping through
The window of my soul
Who's that, who's that
Who's bad, who's bad
Who's that creeping through
The window of my soul
Who's bad, who's bad
Who's that creeping through the window of my soul

I picture this girl, my mother maybe
I've been hoping she was
Not a stranger lately
A part of rapping in English
Was not to feel I had
To justify myself, not to
Hear the other's thoughts
Stringing bits and pieces
Lacking courage to say these
Words: I don't want you to go mom
All you'll hear is a sure sounds dope
How bout some more dope
How bout much more doe
Addiction and adoption
Relinquished they say,
It's a pretty word for some fuck shit
So I'll articulate it for my young self now

I'll articulate it for my young self now
Couldn't watch you go now
Couldn't watch you go
I'll articulate it for my young self now
Who's that creeping through
the window of my soul,
Who's that, who's that
Who's bad, who's bad
Who's that creeping through
The window of my soul
Who's bad, who's bad
Who's that creeping through the window of my soul

Written by:
John Deisser

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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