Song 31 Noname (Ft. Phoelix)

[Verse 1: Noname]
All my everything is for you
All my terrible sense of humor and critical interviews
All my pearly gated redemption and casual afternoons
All this money you know I'm making
Like racin' against the moon, but
I sell pain for profit, and I feel prophet watchin'
Everything is for everything, rhymin' with casualty
Ain't no labels that's backing me, but my tickets be sellin' out
And I'm steady raising my fee, that's another hit from my fee
110 degrees in the desert heat
With a bubble coat, turtleneck underneath
Rolling up on the beach
Smokin a holy weed, laughing, baking
My homie Tee hopin' joking is all we need
When I sell pain for profit
Now I binge-watch Atlanta
No more TV representation from a Kelsey Grammer
Let's toast to niggas getting checks who work behind the camera
Somebody raise they man up

[Chorus: Phoelix]
Truth be told, I wear my heart on my sleeve
Watch you sit it on the shelf
Now my body got cold
I swear we'll never leave
Had to do it for myself, to find my praise
Go get your ass back inside