The Parlour
Blood in my lungs shotgun in my own mouth
Ballin' so hard I got money I don't count
Stacks in my pocket, stacks cause I'm indie
Even though the fuckin odds were
Just stacked up against me hold up
I took a shot of whiskey now I'm fine
Ain't a single one of you gon'
Say this city isn't mine
Even though these record labels told me
That I need to act realer
They said they'll sign me if I
Act like I'm Mac Miller
Some even said they wouldn't sign
Me cause I'm balding
Even though my flow is straight scalding
Now I'm losin confidence I
Feel like quittin music
Even though my flow is so abusive
I'm just scared to let my balls swing
So fuck ya'll, I ain't nobody's pet dog
I pull a gun and all
These record labels get robbed
I gotta make you bang your
Head until your neck throb
No one in their right mind deserves
To work a desk job
I'm gonna catch this dream before I die
Bitch
I'm gonna catch this dream before I die
I don't even need a cheesy
Pop single or a chorus
Ya'll bout to watch me shift
The whole entire global orbit
I'm on my own dick it's so big
It's so enormous
I think I'll swallow myself
Like I'm the Ouroboros
Morbid, black poisonus orchids
Torture anybody on that music
Business whore shit
"How much does a feature cost?"
Bitch you can't afford it
Ten billion unmarked bills on a forklift
I smack the paparazzi bitch I'm
On that Bjork shit
Drinkin Beaujolais with a plate
Of seared swordfish
Either that or Farmhouse Ale
With some pork tips
I quilt words together it's so gorgeous
I never quit it would be bad news to my fans
I'm committed I put tattoos on my hands
I'll never get a real job
I'm stuck makin music
For the goodnatured people that just feel odd
I'm gonna catch this dream before I die
Bitch
I'm gonna catch this dream before I die
Listen, I ain't dissin anybody
Tryin to work a 9-5 so they
Can get a little money
But if you feel like you got
A passion that you gotta chase
Quit your job and hock a
Loogy in your boss's face
Cause I spent too long showin
Up to work formal how can I do normal work?
My brain don't even work normal
I'd rather spray paint the
Stars til their black
Therapeutic gangster rap
There's a market for that
Look, if I was Gucci Mane Pitchfork would say
I'm the greatest fuckin writer of my day
I'm sick of music publications giddy
In their press for thugs
Ya'll are named Pitchfork why
You obsessed with Bloods?
Just because I'm white and used
To mess with drugs
Does not mean Eminem's the reason that I rap
I know real gangsters and people in the trap
It's a fantasy for ya'll and we're
Just leavin it at that bitch
I'm gonna catch this dream before I die
Bitch
I'm gonna catch this dream before I die