[Intro: Samples]
"When I was a kid, we used to play a game—"
"I think you know the rules of our game."
"I have no time to play games."
[Chorus: Voice]
Sometimes I flow staccato
Strip you of vibrato
While you be acting macho
I try and switch it up
I see the games you play
And the traps you lay
Not fit to fall in
But I let you play them anyway
Sometimes I flow staccato
Strip you of vibrato
While you be acting macho
I try and switch it up
I see the games you play
And the traps you lay
Not fit to fall in
But I let you play them anyway
[Verse 1]
Sit, hear the clock tick
Watch the leaves on the plant flick
From the fan above, the room and I lit
Head trip, deliberate
Cease fighting the feeling and submit, flow with it
Like the path pre-exists in hidden codes Masonic
They peep us like a web cam from the pyramid's attic
Passed from hand to hand, let's say coincidence
Or better yet, sixth sense
My instincts telling me to back up from that handshake that was intense
My instincts telling me to back up from that handshake that was intense
Brush it off and commence
Blame it on myself tripping
Till shit hits the fan
'Cause I steered from the plan
About face, and Billy Jean step into place
Throw my coat on the hook
Recap the time that I wasted
I know that spitting's a bad habit
But I can't help the taste
Still searching for the clues as it becomes a cold case
Procrastinator
'Til I think to remove the sheet from your face
Reveal the naysayer
"When I was a kid, we used to play a game—"
"I think you know the rules of our game."
"I have no time to play games."
[Chorus: Voice]
Sometimes I flow staccato
Strip you of vibrato
While you be acting macho
I try and switch it up
I see the games you play
And the traps you lay
Not fit to fall in
But I let you play them anyway
Sometimes I flow staccato
Strip you of vibrato
While you be acting macho
I try and switch it up
I see the games you play
And the traps you lay
Not fit to fall in
But I let you play them anyway
[Verse 1]
Sit, hear the clock tick
Watch the leaves on the plant flick
From the fan above, the room and I lit
Head trip, deliberate
Cease fighting the feeling and submit, flow with it
Like the path pre-exists in hidden codes Masonic
They peep us like a web cam from the pyramid's attic
Passed from hand to hand, let's say coincidence
Or better yet, sixth sense
My instincts telling me to back up from that handshake that was intense
My instincts telling me to back up from that handshake that was intense
Brush it off and commence
Blame it on myself tripping
Till shit hits the fan
'Cause I steered from the plan
About face, and Billy Jean step into place
Throw my coat on the hook
Recap the time that I wasted
I know that spitting's a bad habit
But I can't help the taste
Still searching for the clues as it becomes a cold case
Procrastinator
'Til I think to remove the sheet from your face
Reveal the naysayer
Comments (0)
The minimum comment length is 50 characters.