MUNCH.

0-1-2-52-5-2, I forgot this was about Time, And it’s conversion, the conversation; Don’t get complacent or start complaining. You art is waning like the silver moon you call to; You’re right, this is all you This, your alter, This Atreyu, They’ll betray you, betrate you and then make you Spray, too Go ahead and give me ten seconds, Forget to bring dinner l? This is indentured servitude, Don’t you get an attitude with me, Just some me gratitude You have the baddest ass, But in the baddest mood, I’m mad at you It does even matter dude I want to pitter-patter you; Rain Pitty Pat, So you remember that Pretty pat, Picking up her hat From the laundry mat, Wear a mask But I forgot to ask, What kind of hound is that, Basset, Angela This is not Los Angeles, There’s a lot of angles here, There’s a lot of managers, Passengers, passin blunts I was gonna ask you out to lunch, But yo, you kind of suck Once you get a lick or two: Let me get a pic or two She didn’t even look at you, Maybe it’s your longitude or lattifltude But he’s getting better at it He’s really getting better at it; What is west in Don’t forget to hold you chest in Forget to hold your questions for later l, Go ahead and ask them Blurt them out Don’t put out your cigarette, Not yet You got regrets But don’t express them But he’s getting better at it He’s really getting better at it; He be’s the king from that sexual repression And aggression and depression And then shit you can’t express When you get sick [isjxe] the television Are you listening Or are you really in your head again I said again I didn’t mean to see you in the medicine But this is what the red is in Regression Just another lesson Take it from the best, And don’t forget to put the check in The bank I got the chicken sitting in a tub of butter So come on, you motherfucker Do you want a bucket of this? — Interception, It’s still corruption I went to brunch with A bunch of numb nuts, It isn’t nothing I’ve had enough, man Lorne said I can do better But I didn’t get a jew, Better than I got a new number, New husband I went donuts on the chromas Those other girls be doing bottle service, got diplomas Only fans, and do Pilates That is not me I’m a lost cause, But this is not a comic strip It’s just another trip, A chicken strip Remember when I said that shit about the recipe! Well guess what It gets done in just fucking second l, If you really want to test it There’s a pressure sensor Aghz. Yes. I didn’t think I was gonna be able to get that line. What did you get yourself into? It’s clear by this image your miserable The school ain’t got a principal, The book was written on a principal And if your open to the crypt The shit will open up and Kill you all To solve a riddle and a ritual Now that’s what I call killing two birds with one stone Just leave me a lone, Before I give you all a boner; In my heart I’m still a stoner In my art I’m still a goner, Really I was born here But that’s another problem This motherfucking show ain’t gonna solve em This mother fucker got a lot of balls huh This mother fucker turned into a baller, I just been getting smaller I woke up in a stall in a mall,offa shots with Kanye I don’t even want play I don’t take a lot; pray, I’m in the parking lot, hah I bought myself a cobra, I been on a corvette, Running out of storage, Call me Goldilocks, Cause all I want is porridge, I been straight shook up since north ridge, I’m morbid, They put me in the torture Chamber Dor the profit I’m probably gonna die tho; I’m probably gonna die tho l I’m probably gonna die tho, I finally made my mind up I’m not an alcoholic, But my moms and My pops was; I went through polarity shifts Since I been in this shit I don’t Tik tok or twitch, Do look like a kid to you. Shit. Let me open up the fridge for you; I am Sarah Silverman, I guess this is the interview He probably isn’t into you For several different purposes But this is one of them, You’re in the middle of a centrifugal refuge I probably shouldn’t let you, But, Come and meet my nephew, Cause I feel like he would get you— Just a little bit of religion If you step inside my kitchen Then you better pay attention to the scripture, I ripped uou, a rapture and captured a caption, A captain, a practice, a rapture Wild in cause I’m young, kid cudi. The irony is that CC is amofafs the oldest of souls. I’m parked outside the Apple Store, Dressed like a progressive whore, I stopped to write some lore, But don’t remember what I came for; I was in the same four corners of the world once I probably was your girl once But in this time It’s Kirsten *Dunces*, However you spell it Still a dunce or something Stuck inroads a corvette On the surface, it’s a deck ze But I’m surfing more So splurging on insurance Hahaha. I’m up under the plug I put the stuff under the rug and then I gave my love a hug Cause I knew I would never see the best of him I wonder what would happen if the glove fit; Perhaps the earth would suddenly turn perfect And the dirt out back where dirt is I got the rumble of the subway under my feet I got the children or the whole world under my teet I got a number in my notebook that I’m trying to meet I’m stuck on repeat, cause I eat the teeth of the week My knot’s ruthless; I showed you rubies but I didn’t mean to do this So don’t approach if you don’t wear those broaches, I used to live with roaches, And now I got teams of the people looking for me Asking where the coach is Not a purse I put a problem in reverse and Made his humor even worse Heard a rumor he divorced But didn’t hear you heard it first from me, I made a gallery of secrets, But subliminally leaked it I don’t own not a one Prada I got a lot of problems, But I ain’t get a therapist to talk about em Bout to put a rock inside a fountain and then light it up I write it up and hide a book inside of dm I'm in the center of a circle of snakes; The only mistake I seem to make Is being sacred They Tried me set me up with butter faces and balloons l But paid attention to the tunes That I was writing dude since citing Blu I had to spend a night or two inside of you True or false. False. Where the fuck’s the motherfucking sauce? I want some pasta; I’m on another lost cause Probably finna boss, Cause I been on one Bout to shop at Ross I’m on the west coast Where the fuck’s my French toast Ordered up a trauma One a billion off a crop duster, Conspiracy, You probably can’t hear this You keep on getting near to me But I go ear to ear with them Jimmy crack corn And also Pornography Hahas again. Never forget I’m interested in the architecture. It almost never what’s inside This morning I think I died, Just knowing I would sit in this line In mu own mind, Wasting my whole time Inside a notebook Feeling like I’m lying to myself, To say that I’ve been healthy, More like happier than ever; Which I’ve realized, isn’t even happy at all I’m in a fight over motorcycles for Christ sakes This just isn’t right ey, I can’t wait to Friday Cause I got a Craving for Satan. I may forget my ibuprofen aspirin Every now and then But we were never friends, and it depends what kind of world your in on whether this will make a difference Or just begin another lesson, This is part of the regression, I was bound to get in a wreck Or in a fender bender At one point or another The dirty motherfucker cut me off And didn’t have his blinker on And wreaked of vodka Everytime he speaks to me Or he responds He’s really on some other shit I think a fucking astronaut or something Cause I was dreaming Or screaming for your consciousness I’m optionless and watching reruns of Oprah Stuck inside this opera house like hostages Cause I’m a fucking moron, Colin, Pull the plug I’m Jost a Scarlet Joe- Hanson, as Tom is.