[Verse 1: me]
Still tippin’ on 44s, draped in four Vogues.
Lookin’ like Drake in photos after tryna take eight Nodos.
They uh toast my tape with Solos, over couple crepes in Soho,
or rollin’ up grapes in lolos, whippin’ up eighths of Sno Cones.
Mr. Popularity, cop kicks of croc as therapy.
Clip the crop, twist the top, lit and popped for clarity.
Spliff of broken flowers. Burning tiger lily petals.
Ice and hail all in his beard and they shinin white as devils.
Idle hands hittin’ all the tacks up in that crystal stair
so he be poppin’ percocet pretending that they isn’t there.
Escapism’s contagious, catch a case of exi-stasis,
most of us uh never make it past them first eleven stages.
The only time he recover is when he backslide,
and the clouds all on his clothes will dwarf him like a crack high.
What he remember? Selective. His regrets are not addictive.
Off an ounce of outer space and a quad of quantum physics.

[Verse 2: him, then]
No more parties in River Forest.
Let the dope dealer smoke and chill until he bored us.
We put the “gorge” in gorgeous.
Knocked out and woke up halfway to a diploma.
Kush comas and hemp cures.
Palms of popped pills. Mouthfuls of left turns.
I’m dancing on the ceiling with a chandelier.
I took my first bump in a Chevy Cavalier.
And we used to call Adam weird,
Until we blacked out and came back with Adam’s beard.
Could steam a kettle with his burning ears.
Three weeks indoors, I’m keeping all my curtains clear.
Ritalin got me feelin like Thomas Edison. No man’s
an island but I been colonized by my medicine.
Opened Pandora’s box and let the devil in.
Opened Pandora’s box and let the devil in.

HOOK (x2):
Henny spillin out the reels in my brain.
Got my head spinnin like an old 45.
I drank myself half-dead all weekend,
and told my friends I never felt more alive.

[Verse 3: him, now]
Off to see the devil. I'ma give em what he wants.
Robert Johnson of the block. Trade my music for a nod.
Charlie Parker: part the water then I slip into mirage
cuz I feel a little better when sittin in a facade.
Fistful of dollars. Spaghetti Westerns in my head.
The high make em quiet like a blessing for the dead.
But I'm haunted on the train by the sound of my veins cryin.
Hungry for the liquid remains of that same silence.
([REDACTED], WHAT YOU LOOKING AT) Switch. I'm a pussycat.
Click. I just shiver for fixes under my hoodie scraps.
Girl: I would murder everyone I saw without you.
I'm only too proud to beg with my mouth full.
And I ain't eaten since I woke up. I'm coming to see you,
My arms famished, and screaming for that rush it bleeds to
Feed through. I love you like ten fingers
When they’re wrapped around a needle