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Day/Dream prod. Cooper Albert

4y ago


Written by Jay Smoove, Produced by Cooper Albert. For more from Jay Smoove, For more from Cooper Albert, Lyrics: Steady working making minor pay, tryna find a way Pensive, clocked in, expensive watches they wouldn't show me the time of day ...but heres some shit that only the grinders say Ill walk in clouds till they show me a shining ray Its kind of grey id like to move but im stuck In my groove but im smoove as a fuck. ... it doesn't matter tho Im not tryna step up on the corporate ladder so... Instead of getting weight up im getting sort of fatter yo Getting drunk every night for a month Thinking howd id get my life in the dumps, I gotta change But if change is seen as growth...then we need to come to terms And fully understand the range and mean of both Because my state of mind is different but my circumstance the same Slacking on the job while I work a chance for fame And thought that maybe college was the answer to my question Then I bombed the a.c.t. test, my chance for some progression Manic and im sidetracked, fear thrives with no air So im driving nowhere cause Panic got me hijacked With fog like im driving through ghosts that kiss the windshield And miss whats sealed in still surviving in toasts Tho I think im better than it, my souls throttled Had to drink the whole bottle just to put my letter in it No one there with me to hold my hair, im told that no one cares I hold my own but scared like a punk, drunk off that Baudelaire Drunk off the music, the poetry and whiskey My body probably hates me, sober seems too risky Sinking in the music, drink until im too sick To write a rhyme cuz nights the time I think my shit is useless When im awake my lifes a gift I ought to keep Fucked up on whatever as im drifting off to sleep I set the level let the devil dance the theme And im drunk so im falling asleep - perchance to dream yo Envision it, my penmanship and my brimming lip Got the slimmest hip women stripping skinny to swim and dip Would even make a gymnast trip, the way my limericks flipped To lemon whips, with gems in my rims and then my tims are zipped Adjectives and verbs - its the way I get to play While getting pay and Critics say im magic in the blurbs Of course its getting sold in more stores as im forcing men to fold My broke teeth went from porcelain to gold Blind em with the smile, fine shine remind em of the style Fine wines mine the finest in the isle Mahogany and oak in my lair preparing rasta weed to smoke As I stare at araistophanes for jokes Burgundy and cream is the robe its most certainly a dream I see hope as hoes thirst to be the queen Perfectly obscene, cursing me assertively as sheen The fiends lean, every word from me's the clean Diesel for the doomed, flick the sour from the needle in the spoon Pick the flowers from my easel as it blooms But it isn't what it seems, though every time you listen it's a dream The only thing im missing is the cream But cant you see it? Smell the smoke from expensive cigars Me telling jokes from the desk of a czar Tend shows just so all my click could spend dough The sickest endo, propped against a picture window Looking far as the south- I prepare my performance Just So you would swear I was born with that cigar in my mouth But Yo I Crept to caking- kept on baking rhymes now im adept at making Ill flows chime Until those that slept awaken But I checked, right, skill cant put me on, but respect might See I don't - shine on my own, I just reflect light Beam when its sunny, only in a dream get the honey Old school like cream get the money and its me