Fumble Lyrics

Damn this shit remind of that Melt My Eyez sound

Can't believe how shit done changed in just a year my life done turned around

Did a backflip and hit the dougie trouble-ducking

Not with 12 just with every little thing cause I'm anxious

Shit gets ugly when your choices is flippant

Your ocean made of single drops why you think I make em count?

Every time a single flops I--

Pick up my pen get back on my Pablo Picasso

I find the flow again cause I'm fearing feeling staccato

But life gon' make you stand within inches

Of that shit that gotchu flinching I been steady belt-cinching

Shedding dead ass weight 'cause my fears done brought in the henchmen

I catch another dub and I roll it up in a Swisher

I wish that last rhyme would've been more exact

Fuck it sounded good to me man I'm tired of holding me back

'Cause perfection at its worst will have you splitting up the atoms

And you know what happens next will have you scattered cross the pasture

Don't wanna talk about it no no

Don't wanna talk about it no no

(Don't wanna know what I know I know now)

I'm ok if you're ok

And it's all gon' be alright

Oh I'm tired tired

Of tryna

Keep it inside

Take a step back looking at the macro

Drowning in the pennies now I'm seeing how the cash fold

Bags grown greatly under eyes put that all to rest

Revelations bring new beginnings learned how to stop duress

The self-inflicted kind dreaming wanting wishing kind

Feel it in my stomach damn I just can't wait to get it kind

I used to think that all my lusting was incentivized

Now I'm just enjoying the story like I'm a cinephile

Watching RedTube glad I left that in a past chapter

Can't say I'm free from all my chains but just ask the pastor

If he rid of all his sins bet he slip a chuckle

I'm just reassuring myself so please forgive the fumble

Tryna be vice-free hard to cut the cable off

Minus nicotine my teeth grind like a table-saw

Itching for a fix the DT's start to scratch and claw

I wait in line the dude in front buying the scratch-it-offs

I look with pity, "What a waste of fucking money,"

Really how we any different seems we both tryna get lucky catch a--

Quick high and get the dopamine rushing

Wonder if I'm viewed the same prolly so it's really funny

After all that reflection I never stepped out of line ce3

I saw the depths of my addiction couldn't throw it aside

And even now as I'm writing I got a pouch in my lip

It's like my words ain't aimed at me long as it's couched in a hit

And I'm assuming someone hears it and they'll take a step forward

Damn I hate hypocrisy now I'm the poster child for it

Catastrophisizing I really need to just quit

For now this bottle like my records got the perfect place to spit, damn