Cloudy

Cloudy, muggy, the day's all shitty as hell Fighting fainting spells, the city's the rail Quarter delay at a quarter to six I'm sorry lady done stepped on my kicks, voluptuous tricks Fucking around, and it sucks to be you But I guess living a lie is a luxury too It's probably plain to say that some strange days And any which way let a man convey it Commit to his terms no need for concern From his own mistakes, yeah baby you must learn Hand full of tricks, A fist full of motivation Flailing punches, swinging without hesitation Snooping around, ain't no buried treasure It's just sunken ships and short-lived pleasures It's the simple things that brick up a foundation Like a mound of patience gets you a pound of weight I'm hating cause there ain't much love in my life It's just drugs, jobs, and a bundle of gripes. (What?) Haven't you heard, it's a modern condition A band of glitches, and a mob of bitching A crowd of adversaries, the more the merrier I ain't going down without a fight till my burial You broke the barrier, and fell off it's spokes Now it's tumbling down and it's waking the folks (Chorus) Guess these ailments come along with the territory A better story, now you're telling me what's better for me Mellow shorty, wanna chill with the kinfolk Smoke weed and be down with those inside jokes. (haha) Bubble(?) of mischief, let's take you to the disco There's talk of the demo, but still no disc, though Provoke panic, how strange they demand it In a city of millions, how one can feel stranded Hand to the heart, now one can feel the tempo One empty bottle and one written-verse memento All in all, still sorta like a good day One Ice Cube for this growing pain tooth-ache Baked on a Monday, the missus is still snoring Ignoring the phony, imagination is soaring Designing Women with a fat ass like Delta Burke Working girls still find time just to make it work B-b-back to the drawing board Scribbled her vaguely Jot then a mock, frown, "Why the long face, B?" Neglect is heard, I must have been stabbed or something Blood curdling, the wound is now settling In stitches, the broken hand counts riches Was it his heart, maybe they broke his spirit Only time will tell, they've just began to hear it The mic's torrid, you can't come near it