Yo
Childish time echos, we paint with words
Interject glitchiness into the mix, it's soul power
Mic hold, heavy-hand
That keep the insurance sniffing and stitching we
Gathering in remembrance
Galaxy's the distance between us by Christmas, blabbering this
Well-pondered philosophy
Verbal paint splatter on you, onward to higher velocity and
To what exact degree these 3 O-Z's in my LeBron 15's could
Weigh me down, never skip a beat you're living kid
Making me definitionally definitive
What the f*ck's euphoria
What the f*ck's a silent night
And who the hell are you to tell me who the f*ck you even are
I could live this down like 40 years from now
But I dream of being here year 3-thou
Said
"I could live this down like 40 years from now
I dream of being here year 3-thou
I could live this down like 40 years from now
I dream of being here year 3-thou
I could live this down like 40 years from now
I dream of being here year 3-thou"
Time's pre-forewarned indisposable relevance
Sacrifice the now into the future with decadence
Very far, hard to spread a net, Marduk
With the all-seeing-eye farfetched
And there you are with references to iamverysmart subreddits, I'm a
Diacritic of dire critics and accents
Passé composé, French past tense
I could scribble it meticulous
Speeding, not getting ticketed
Nymphalid tracked like a cricket in thickets
Rickety steamboat, foreward
Origin, looking for a word to look for
Lord say it's been a word
Doctor Octogynecoloneuropsychopharmacological Prodigal Son
Dope to cope, 'til it all become comical with awful objectivity
And the universe's not-so-intelligent intelligibility
Arbitrary but equality is subjective
Self-comparison is recurrent abstraction, think
About who you are, it's undefined and inaccurate
And surely incomplete, there's heirarchy in abstraction
Perhaps God's the only thing abstract and concrete
Sizable Logan - .999... = 1 Lyrics
Sizable Logan - .999... = 1 Lyrics
We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
Yo
Childish time echos, we paint with words
Interject glitchiness into the mix, it's soul power
Mic hold, heavy-hand
That keep the insurance sniffing and stitching we
Gathering in remembrance
Galaxy's the distance between us by Christmas, blabbering this
Well-pondered philosophy
Verbal paint splatter on you, onward to higher velocity and
To what exact degree these 3 O-Z's in my LeBron 15's could
Weigh me down, never skip a beat you're living kid
Making me definitionally definitive
What the f*ck's euphoria
What the f*ck's a silent night
And who the hell are you to tell me who the f*ck you even are
I could live this down like 40 years from now
But I dream of being here year 3-thou
Said
"I could live this down like 40 years from now
I dream of being here year 3-thou
I could live this down like 40 years from now
I dream of being here year 3-thou
I could live this down like 40 years from now
I dream of being here year 3-thou"
Time's pre-forewarned indisposable relevance
Sacrifice the now into the future with decadence
Very far, hard to spread a net, Marduk
With the all-seeing-eye farfetched
And there you are with references to iamverysmart subreddits, I'm a
Diacritic of dire critics and accents
Passé composé, French past tense
I could scribble it meticulous
Speeding, not getting ticketed
Nymphalid tracked like a cricket in thickets
Rickety steamboat, foreward
Origin, looking for a word to look for
Lord say it's been a word
Doctor Octogynecoloneuropsychopharmacological Prodigal Son
Dope to cope, 'til it all become comical with awful objectivity
And the universe's not-so-intelligent intelligibility
Arbitrary but equality is subjective
Self-comparison is recurrent abstraction, think
About who you are, it's undefined and inaccurate
And surely incomplete, there's heirarchy in abstraction
Perhaps God's the only thing abstract and concrete
Childish time echos, we paint with words
Interject glitchiness into the mix, it's soul power
Mic hold, heavy-hand
That keep the insurance sniffing and stitching we
Gathering in remembrance
Galaxy's the distance between us by Christmas, blabbering this
Well-pondered philosophy
Verbal paint splatter on you, onward to higher velocity and
To what exact degree these 3 O-Z's in my LeBron 15's could
Weigh me down, never skip a beat you're living kid
Making me definitionally definitive
What the f*ck's euphoria
What the f*ck's a silent night
And who the hell are you to tell me who the f*ck you even are
I could live this down like 40 years from now
But I dream of being here year 3-thou
Said
"I could live this down like 40 years from now
I dream of being here year 3-thou
I could live this down like 40 years from now
I dream of being here year 3-thou
I could live this down like 40 years from now
I dream of being here year 3-thou"
Time's pre-forewarned indisposable relevance
Sacrifice the now into the future with decadence
Very far, hard to spread a net, Marduk
With the all-seeing-eye farfetched
And there you are with references to iamverysmart subreddits, I'm a
Diacritic of dire critics and accents
Passé composé, French past tense
I could scribble it meticulous
Speeding, not getting ticketed
Nymphalid tracked like a cricket in thickets
Rickety steamboat, foreward
Origin, looking for a word to look for
Lord say it's been a word
Doctor Octogynecoloneuropsychopharmacological Prodigal Son
Dope to cope, 'til it all become comical with awful objectivity
And the universe's not-so-intelligent intelligibility
Arbitrary but equality is subjective
Self-comparison is recurrent abstraction, think
About who you are, it's undefined and inaccurate
And surely incomplete, there's heirarchy in abstraction
Perhaps God's the only thing abstract and concrete
Writer: Logan Plymale
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid