NEW SUN

(album: Solar Flare - 2019)

Where's my snare?
I can't hear my snare
My snare...
R A V

'Twas all fun and games, 'til the senpai came
Best in the game and I rest my case
On that "Tribe Called Quest type
I'm gon' gets mine
I won't flex my hentai" brain
Who knows what meeting ends might bring?
Who knows what when I'm in my way?
Steer my flame with a judo cut
And you do throw butt when you hear my name
Okay
I'm lost with myself again, ooh
Pissed off and depressed, I am
True
Used to get across, now I guess I can't
Catch me moving through the moss with a stressed type grin
Look, I don't want nothing I don't need to know
I've no love to give
God, leave me alone
I won't give my love, gots to get your own
Stomp on my insides
Climb and kiss the moon

Ayo I might fuck around and... uh
Main Ice Climbers in Smash
And win the tournament without wobbling
Check it

Fuck around with yours but bitch I'm keeping my pieces
Deep inside the canvas buried deep inside beaches
Jolly Roger 'prolly dodging cop cars off the freeway
Thrift store rappers cop bars off of eBay
Careful what your steez say, try and catch buds
It's best of a featest, legs screaming out
From the chest up, I'm fiending
Beefing with my Jesus cleaning 'Didas getting creased let these calves get to work
It's getting messy at the table covered napkin and shirt
We cutting body parts, lavender hues inside the pigments
Try to box me in and ain't no room inside your figments
I'm on Huger Street the crew is truly deep we mobbing loc
The motto's think fast even though we talking slow
Gold mouth, ho, we dripping dust chasing with the twisted lust
Try to tip-toe but all these demons try to trip me up
Hit me with that pistol butt, swear I'll haunt yo mama house, bitch

Ayy, you know how it is
Back up in this motherfucker acting like that motherfucker
Bitch
Ayy, we been with the shits
Half you lil' motherfuckers acting like you onto something
Bitch
Wait
Screw the politics
Cracking up at motherfuckers rapping like they something other
You're bitch made
Feel the slip on your grip
Who gassing up you motherfucking rappers is a motherfucker
Ha!
Still fucking up Townsville
Still on the block in my burgundy brown silk
It's till fuck cops, I don't say it just to sound trill
Ayo it's still fuck the plot, and the urgency they spout still
Sounds ill
Yeah I'd rather not, that don't sound right
Wow, Bill
Shark's teeth lodged in the mouse bite
Bounce still
Car keys lost where I drowned my doubts
Chill
Rather be locked on the outside