Dry Ice

Yeah, I was in on the plot, but you still got a fiend shot
 Election's over, but the robocalls never stop
 Negotiations broke down, they sent in RoboCop
 I don't know nothing, I don't call a lot
 Answering the phone like you know I want something (Hey, you not wrong)
 She said "Come inside if you coming" so we bet the farm
 Anything I ever got was on the arm
 Anything I ever got was on my own
 Mengistu how I watch the throne
 Type of kid who never wanna be at home
 Be in the park shooting hoops alone in the dark
 Red flag, but what you really gon' do for him? He already gone
 Once they put him in the hole, he was ready for 'em
 Submit the verse long form, still put it on Twitter for you silly niggas
 Walk past homeless like "Cry me a river"
 No question about it, doc, I'm getting sicker
 When she said the magic word, definitely got bigger
 No question about it, I'm definitely getting sicker
 Smoke like dry ice, every line is a mirror
 Try as they might, never see him clearer
 What he most wanted she wouldn't give
 Took everything else, he the type to do it big
 It's like an ocean out there
 Sometimes I wonder how I keep from going under though
 Under the undertow
 It's like an ocean out there
 Sometimes I wonder how I keep from going under though
 Under the undertow
 It's like an ocean out there
 Sometimes I wonder how I keep from going under though
 Under the undertow
 It's like an ocean out there
 Sometimes I wonder how I keep from going under though
 Under the undertow
 It's like an ocean out there
 Sometimes I wonder how I keep from going under though
 Under the undertow
 It's like an ocean out there
 Sometimes I wonder how I keep from going under though
 Under the undertow
 The universe is unbothered
 What's the matter if I murder a few rap bloggers?
 History told by a conqueror
 Rounded the remains to the nearest tenth
 Tell me how he grew grain like it's his, leave no prints
 Skin to skin, wickedness in high places, watch your chin
 Swordplay, bounty of war, red sauce is port-based
 Storm chasing, trying to melt my face on my born day
 Shape of things to come, practicing for a world where they don't exist
 Pigs that shoot hoops with the kids
 Few months later, slapping cuff links on they wrist
 Running off script, pop, smoke, sniff
 Psychotropic dose, pockets open, swear to no one
 I know oceans, I got no lungs