[Verse 1]
Wake and bake it slowly
Yo, it’s that bitch, run!
It’s a suggestion
Wake and bake it slowly
It’s a suggestion
It’s that bitch bitch, run
What is rummaging demi-god
Lost in the moat boy, guard my turf
Take your clothing returns back intact
I need a dub sac before the bile clenches
A pinch and stains my lungs

[Verse 2]
Wag of the finger and the shock of call me old
The dank on two tabs in labor pest block the cough and cold
A long drawn case of evasive waiting session activities please
Blue on both sides, my model doc calls in late
Pencil, shoe mall, the mother's daughter propagates
Low on fodder in a mannequin in suit and tie
Rosha come now with the Bible got a grenade on the inside

[Verse 3]
Hey man can I get in there
This door isn’t push, you squeeze it
When your talking pace is like a racist case
Cow bladder hepatitis please bitch
I must’ve blamed all these competing contemporary factions
I must’ve decreed that this is the sum of all of my actions
Better to stay up late than feel the morning's hate for me and my masochist mind
Running again and again and again with a realistic wage in mind
Running again and again remove the plastic that’s lodged in my spine
If you know the bumps then the road won't jump and startle you half of the time
Better to stay up late than feel the morning's hate for me and my masochist mind
Me and my masochist mind