Boat Shoes - The Alchemist, Gangrene

Let’s roll out

Talkin' 'bout, when I’m gonna raise the sails?

(Hoist that bitch)

Man, I’m 'bout to start ballin', for real

My vacation 'bout to start, I can’t post none of this shit

It’s too much ballin'

Uh, pull the Lamborghini machines up on the double

I’ll make a youngin pull his jeans up

Tuck in his shirt and get 'em cleaned up (C'mere, c’mere)

Fold the crease in his chinos and have 'em steamed up

I was solo then I teamed up (What up?)

Now I’m pushin' buttons like Scotty when beamed up

The unidentified flyin' object defyin' logic

I’ll ride a pocket 'til my body rotten

More gone and forgotten, so many sons I put a couple up for adoption

'Til then for me to stop is not an option

Spillin' the clicker on the yacht while it was dockin'

Caught me slippin' with no socks, in my moccasins

I’m like your favorite fruit when it’s in season, I been sneezin'

Roll down the tint, I need my skin to the wind breezin'

I need to feel the sun on my skin' beamin'

Drownin' my thoughts, scratchin' the whiskers on my chin region

—gets mad or over-dramatic, it’s shitty

You’re drinking when you’re writing?

I never said I came to re-invent the wheel

But I don’t roll with the squares, it’s blockin' out a nigga skill

Posted in my pajamas in my Hugh Hef

Pavin' the way, see, I can show y’all a new step

Or take it to the head like Russian Roulette and gamble thoughts

The cost crossed 'em off and thrown like a lacrosse toss

Shit, I’m slumped on the throne like a drunken boss

Sittin' on the wave still, supplier’s an albatross

I need space like astronauts

Astronomically high, watchin' the stars crash a lot

I’m a doctor, but I’m not Cliff Huxtable

I got a sandwich and my feet up on the couch, I’m comfortable

There’s no sacks in the hush, I get it plush

Crush your luck, bag it up just to feel the rush

Now that’s a bad jewelry heist, the way I’m droppin' gems

Zeitgeist trim, precise, my advice is win (C'mon)

I need to feel the light breeze from the slightest wind

The gang’s 'bout to light 'em again (Go and let 'em in), yeah

Go on, let 'em in

We know the air is unfit to breathe

Our food is unfit to eat

We sit watching our TVs while some local newscaster tells us that today we had

fifteen homicides and sixty-three violent crimes

As if that’s the way it’s supposed to be

We know things are bad, worse than bad, they’re crazy

It’s like everything everywhere is going crazy, so we don’t go out anymore

We sit in the house

And slowly the world we are living in is getting smaller

And all we say is

«Please, at least leave us alone in our living rooms

Let me have my toaster and my TV and my steel-belted radials»

No storm can last forever

Which is very unusual

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