BradKinn - StUPIDNESS

All my life I've been searching for a better me
Worked for my high degree finding I was incomplete
Getting high for free
Then I finally hit the scene
Growing up not for me
Let me just (uh)
Coast right on by with the windows down low
Oops, gotta little high, need some visine
Hit by the high beam, eyes red as hi-c
Got nothing I need, but I feel fine see
See? I can numb it down
Make a smile from a frown
If I look upside down
Maybe, that's why I'm always goofing
Cause you all walk on the ceiling
When I hide from my feelings
Oops! got a little too real
Like my name was Sonreal
But that's what you get when you crack the seal
And I pop out looking out for my happy meal
With a side of vodka soda and some wacky for ya
Forget the rolla, I got a bowl here for ya
Yeah my name bradkinn
Short from the birth name
I'm the one rapping
I'm the one mixing
I'm the one stacking

Nah that's a lie
I make nothing but I try
Cause it's shoot or die
Like do or die
In a suit and tie
Never me I would suicide, so I
Aimed for the moon and ended up lost in space
Rejecting coveted grace
With the shame on my face
Feeling all out of place
Till I plummet back to earth
And land burnt in my hearse
Weighted breaths and it hurts
felt good now I'm worse

Hangover but the pain ain't over
Forever stuck in a layover
Hear the devil playing redrover
Like send brad on over
Man I gotta kill my sin
But I love giving in
But I hate what's within
That's my inner duality
And I hate it so passionately
Dangerously seek to better me
That's my duality
A ghost inside for me try
These folks within want me to die
The most I lie is when I fly
The shocks and locks they hold my mind
And tell my time to hold the line
I throw my vine but can't swing
3 strikes no win
No flights just sin
Dh got in the pitching cutting
Lips biting hands raised the ball gone
Sidekick me heroes live and I die

Cryptic text, mystic mess, a fit to flex
Brexit fix for my nexus bits
Dry soul and wet tears
Red lines and empty beers
Sharp knife and deaf ears
And you can talk about me to your piers
Just let em know you'll get my bars next year
This year I'm doing me
No strings attached
Like I'm awesome, like Kutcher
Tell the boys I'm the butcher
And I'm the wisher
Got 16 like Garner
My main Fuse went bang bang Bangalore
Now my Pathfinder's less Garmin more Overwatch lore
That's broken like my treefort floor
But I keep it strong like a sycamore
Was sick now I'm sick no more
Cept the flow the flow is ill, gold
Solid, eclectic, diverse is how I like it
Afflicted with the illness of greatness
And I know I benefit and I could benefit
From a better fit but that's a negative
I like how the holes in my clothes show the bandages

Song over get it
Duality and fidgets
Poetry and cringe edits
I binge watch interviews of addicts
And mess with ab libs
Turn out my eyelids
And put beside this precious lifeless sidekick
Stupidness

Written by:
Bradley Kinnunen

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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