Fleetwood

There′s no winners at the ass-kissing contest
Not even the judge
Identify the object, but keep it in your pocketAnd try to leave the page before you start to read the comments
I can't remember when she wasn′t asking what was wrong
I'm not offended, I'm pretending it′s just because of the songs
While I was renderin′ my life, y'all put the shuffle on

It′s like I'm standing on the corner of Lyndale and Lake
I′m staring at the sh- displayed behind the windows and gates
Patient waitin' for the bus to carry me down the street
I feel like f- you, January, got me freezing my feet
Sleeping on the plane, tryna find time travel
Like you high enough to see inside of the galaxy′s a-
It follow you and swallow you like a black hole

Ayy, I'm not the same dude I used to be, thankfully
Permanently angry, tryna burn your little angel wings
My sh- still stinks, nobody's changing me
You tryin′ to get dough, I′m tryna take over a bakery
You kinda look like the type that might book flights
When faced with adversity, the first to be like, "Good night"
Took a long pull, hype

I been around the world and I-I-I
I can't find a sweet spot to squat and die-ie-ie
Y′all be talking hella sh-, I guess I probably would as well
I walk like an elephant, shook the bell, you took the L and
Flipped it upside down like a crutch, yo
Let go of my tusk before the mountain erupts
And everybody's like, "What? We ain′t know it's a volcano"