Shake Hands With Shadows The Streets

I don't see it’s anybody's business but my own

Shake hands with shadows an hour before dawn
Wake me up before the talking turns into walking
Electric tobacco smoke gone in a genie
The Drake and the drill songs and the aching bank accounts
Time turns to business, I look for a way out
I should walk my way out
Shake hands with shadows an hour before dawn
The puppeteer pulls strings in the carnival of life

I don't see it’s anybody's business but my own

Confetti celebrating and showering haters
She don't look your way in case you say something to her
Chasing redemption plays on the system
Sponsored by low-hanging fruit-flavoured vodka
I shake hands with shadows an hour before dawn

I shake hands with shadows an hour before dawn
They chase trends in fashion while their landlords call
They shake the club with anthems, the realities are raw
Take the role of gangsters where you may not have form

I shake hands with shadows an hour before dawn
Aching hands gather the dourest corn
Fake bands of misfits bent into a crawl
You waste moments with laughter as friendships fall