Bakwood Bill - LOW LIT

We be in the studio with candles lit and buddha heads
The music get me high so I don't need to take the pseudopheds
My bitch is stupid thick she like to give me super head
But I'd rather hold her hand traveling through Budapest
My stupid chest
Beating like an 808
Caught the feelings like a cold yeah thats my mistake
My immune system must be tweaking
Fighting feelings it ain't battling the demons

I used to want to grow up to be a movie star
But I've been acting since birth like the Olsen daughters
I'm just trying to please them all i just play my part
I'm wishing for a day off every August third
Before I break down like a used first car
My engine burning out, fuel running low
I'm outta gas money i cant fill it though
I'm crashing but you put me on a beat I'm cynical
Weed clinical, phone kept near
Calls going out but nobody wanna hear me
I just wanna speak so dearly
Sign the voice mail its me sincerely
I'm too high no I cant think clearly
And my, head laying on the side of my cold pillow
My sleep been deep, the THC a dream killer
Grim reap creaping cause they never made one realer look

Now it's just Bakwood
I don't know who Alex is no I threw him in the gutter look
Got rid of him
Dip soon look
Thoughts from a low lit bedroom

And the second verse always gotta be a freestyle
And I go in off the dome like speed dial
Hit 3 and the phone calls mom
I'm overdosed again help ring alarm
Ring the alarms and it's going in
Candles lit fire started again
Start a fire all up in my head
Speaking gibberish I cannot speak English
Going like a motherfucker on recess
Screaming like a kid out on recess
Like a court thats out on recess
Hoping that I catch a breath go one deep breath
Take a deep breath fore I go back in
Hit the wood again oh now I'm back again
Bakwood and I'm feeling real good
Beat draws out like my life good now

Written by:
A. Tymouch

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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