OBEY The Kidd - Art of Improv-

Damn seems so far I've been a wack artist
But I'm getting better this pressure fueling my gas compartment
Moving through the city I'm air polluting and still self harming
But don't be alarmed tho it's only fire I'm always tired
Never getting hired, I'm getting high
Just getting by tho
Fuck minimum wage this valley heat I gotta leave
Bitch don't wear a sleeve a cut up wrist just need a kiss
Feeling like I'm D rose damn cause I don't ever miss
Except when I'm fucking, I'm ducking cause I don't need no kids
Fuck my mental health my composure that's what I need to fix
But I'm never sober
No hope, no lucky clover
It's gone, bitch that's my closure
Don't go, I won't go, I won't go, bitch this aint over
Now splash, wet up the toaster
I'm burnt along the outside
She's wet then I'm a monster
She left me at the altar
And since then I've been better but my mind always wanders along
I'm alone, I been told, so why the fuck would I bother
Aye
I don't even know if I'm enough
But ima get it done for sure
Talking shit you fucking up
Just step back you ain't tough
On my cross chain you'd get turnt to dust
I can't take this shit no more don't wanna be aggressive
Talking all this lavish shit but really fucking reckless
I'm sorry mom I love you all but hate life in the present
If I'm alive 10 years from now I'm not too far from heaven
Aye
When I'm with my homies it's serotonin we telling stories
Telephone is ringing we bringing nothing but problems coming
Talk about offenses my reckless nature gone get respected
But you're not affected by me if you didn't listen
Obedience ain't my name but it's fear that I put in place
All about protection reflecting across my space
I keep a smith n wesson wit me, that's just incase
You gotta keep watchin homie, you're never safe
When the baddest in the street, and
WE NEVER LEAVE
Bitch i know who you ain't
I give a fuck just what you think
Is what you flex on the gram
Just what you mark off your receipt
I'll hit up ya mans because I, don't give a damn
Now I'm washing my hands and I got blood up on my sink
'Aye'
17 In heat but this hotter pocket make you retreat
They wonder how I made it while sitting upon they seats
Cause like I'll do what i gotta til im rich or deceased

Written by:
Alan Macias

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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