(Left side) Picture yourself just of nuclear fission With library cards and a metaphor skies (ha ha ha ha). Somebody quotes you, you read from a source
drumroll, please. wet, cold candy, clinking up these bare stairs a sweet pitter patter of sublime primitive rhythm, sunlight dances, the most playful
A hand, reaching out in total darkness. Touching soft, smooth skin. Fingers absent of stress, small, thin, but lively and warm. Palm the faintest damp
noise hypnotic and tribal brass buttons and knobs, melting together, as taut cat whiskers pulse. an angry snake, devours its mouse a la mode tail shaking
and YC Readell Road, that's my street Ask around on the Eastside I'm the s-h-i-t Bun B Bun B, I'm underground king In the candy-painted car on swang
m something to eat (ta!) I got pimps givin me the money Just to taste my jar of honey Cotton candy sweet as gold Come and lick my Tootsie Roll My sugar baby once you wet
something to eat I got pimps givin me the money Just to taste my jar of honey Cotton candy sweet as gold Come and lick my tootsie roll My sugar baby once you wet
, Rell, E-Roc) [Hook: x2] I'm a Southern nigga, Houston Texas nigga Syrup sipper nigga, candy paint dripper Wood grain gripper, chrome wheel spinner Land other
to eat I got pimps givin me the money Just to taste my jar of honey Cotton candy sweet as gold Come and lick my tootsie roll My sugar baby once you wet
