oi I'm sad af I didn't even realize I caught up to your first track 😭😭😭

lofihiphop

h,awaii

thank you all for your attention
and before i forget to mention,
theres snacks inside the lobby and bottles to break the tension
L's and J's rolled up for the ascension
cross my T's and dot my i's, i tend to speak clearly for comprehension
talking to competition
so oyasumi to my foes
choppin heads, im charged up and taggin toes
baggin hoes, rollin up O's and snatchin souls
yeah I been runnin through the 631 with all my woes
i feel gifted, focal point been shifted
if you say my name I hope you got permission
gordon ramsey wack motherfuckers, dont need a kitchen
on a mission for friction, come check the diction
too many rhyme schemes lacking conviction
youre out your jurisdiction
im gojira on the mic
aint you seen my movies fam? i never lost a fight
whatchu feelin moody bruh? this aint the tone you like?
catch the fade I catch an attitude, I'm lightning with this right
im spitting out of spite
and im spitting out this sprite
i said 7 up bitch go get a fuckin drink I like
ayo lemme get a light
my minds heavy
spliff ready n rolled tight

mama said there'd be days like this

ayo im back up in this motherfucker
Yall done woke up satan from his slumber
Now he’s faded, catch him flirting with ya baby mother
And he aint bring a rubber
Eatin beef for supper
Try to flex and get a clap like thunder
yall cecil, im a lion hunter
and that coward simba he can catch a stone cold stunner
have ya mama feelin ten years younger
callin me lover till I dip and leave her with a fake phone number
who’s next? I’m takin numbers
about my action, go enjoy ya summer


Dope Days [prod. by a r p l]

Good Morning

stumble, shoulder check the bouncer on the way out
I aint had enough until I lost this raincloud
have it my way like I'm frankie, boy
mom I'm fine, I'm only druggin on weekends
Off the deep end, I aint been sleepin,
Man i'm not done drinking
cut a line, self-loathing creeping
find me a european
call me a spic, gimmie a fuckin reason
Im brown, bitter, and seething.
eager to serve beatings
half nicaraguan, half puerto rican
wassup Trump?
dirty fingernails, a shot glass, a text from amanda
shoulda just stayed home and wrote stanzas
bitch im cancer. bloody knuckles and witty banter
pity standard. write in sanskrit
pander to wrong livin and right answers
kissin on cold women
strangle my old self by lit candle
brace for impact, im clutching handles
check the chip tooth smile
throwin shade like its goin outta style
concrete shame, waitin on a trial
chip on my shoulders, im over mild
over reacting, over zealous child
over worked and under satiated
fuck the world my official statement
you 808's im late registration or maybe graduation
homie this is basic
gravitating on my final straw of patience
leave a kardashian without a facelift
hazy mental, whiskey, denim, and some perky tits
pop a percocet, my pertinence is permanent
proving grounds, poems are pestilence
on my pedestal
im heaven sent

Never thought I’d see the day - - dialogues turnin gray
This talking shit is nonsense; use my eyes to communicate
Shorty’s eyes dilated, compensate me for the time she wasted
No red pill gon save you from the matrix
Agent Smith rocking hoes sans the latex
Hit neo wit a suplex
Fits of violence and great sex; aint showing up without a pay check
cant find my kicks at payless
50 paces west; turn n shoot
On my [ready to die], just [gimmie the loot] - - I’m murder proof
Call me Bishop bitch, I got the juice - - act tough and lose a tooth
In hot pursuit of money, bitches, and yeezy boosts
An inconvenient truth, this intravenous vibe
[victory] in my arteries, reporting live
Recording ordinance, gods reply
Wack rappers sounding so contrived – I don’t know how to lie
Losing brain cells chasing that first high
Mr west told me to touch the sky
4 deep, rolling up and puffing la
Apologize to ma
A sober mind don’t keep me somber, sovereign status strengthened over time
Difference in love and lust - - a fine line
Rather malt liquor over wine
Decepticon hunting energon
Rap divine - - in my prime 
Hoping satan got complacent by the time I die
-looking to overthrow the throne
-show up to hell like daddys home
-rapping monotone, call me hodgy, feel my mind gone
-only the based god can stop me, this the terror dome
-a public enemy, a crown of thorns
The world aint ever getting moved by poems
-but I could tell you some that saved my soul 
I need a whiskey double, order up
Bitch I’ll tell you when I’ve had enough 


Happy Hour [prod. by ezekey(▰˘◡˘▰)]

13love

Aint no limit, peace to master P
I need y’all, keep the hate up, lock my focus on my masterpiece
First law of alchemy, humankind cannot gain without first giving
Fuck ya participation ribbon, looking for victims
Smile & wave, master this masquerade, I’m playing happy
Coltraine and Sartre, existential jazz, rolling grass a language athlete
Memory patchy, onodera the apache wit yason13 killin Nazis
On my come up like the sun at 6, waiting to die, crosses my mind every couple minutes
Faith in friends diminished, god – when the fuck did I become sucha cynic
Don’t bother talkin, hate advice, I never listen
Distract myself with women, feed my addiction, validation in that sin, lets sully up the linens,
That honesty could jeopardize the mission, so go ahead, pretend you care about the way she livin
Take another sip, you lookin livid
Whatchu so mad at? Shutup and rap
Get on ableton, ya shit sounds whack
Aint getting my money back
So I’ll be damned if a single dime goes to waste
Don’t be good my nigga, be great 

Yall build em up just to knock em down, don’t ya?
Yall build em up just to knock em down, don’t ya?
Let go of ego and embrace the hopeless
Find what you love and let it kill you,
 
cut the beat throat and let it bleed dry
rigamortis, settle the score, I keep my head high
word is bond. My word is vile.
Tipping point problem child , snapping. Something like columbine
im feeling manic, [manage to] write my prose
My pretty pain, my love for dames, blunts, and basement shows
Hate myself but im the flyest nigga that I know
My vision different, I see things I know these lames wont 
***Yall see dead ends, I see a sky above
You see obessions I see love
I see blood, razor underneath my tongue, leather gloves
Blue jeans n a katana - - pulpfiction. Never was a fan of guns
Possessed lungs, these are messages from god that I relay, contagious like the flu
Zeus is sick of playin all these fuckin games wit you
He stealing souls through my verses and hooks, aint seen a body count like this since Hiroshima, out here droppin truth
Got a stare like Rasputin, mad monk spittin ruthless,
Blindly aggressive out here causin contusions
Game of kings, this what they calla checkmate
Don’t be good my nigga, be great




Nausea [prod. by yason13]

You look cuter on the Internet
 I'm sorry, tryna keep the lies in check 
And I'd be lying if I said that I still wanted to have sex 
You're making me real stressed 
You know what, I can tell this date is over 
It ain't like I'm some Casanova 
And lately I've been feeling distant; colder 
Drinking a jack and coke without the soda 
Been struggling to meet the monthly quota 
Overdosing on human condition, cold shoulders, and cups of folgers 
Nothing match better than coffee and smokes 
And I ain't talking bud, that nicotine it slowly chokes 
But it calms me down 
Them greens linger too long, I need my feet on the ground 
And my memory bad enough but fuck it, roll that Dutch 
Don't know what I'm running from but I feel it catching up 
Right behind me breathing on my neck. It's in my cup. 
In my blunt. In that dead eyed stare. 
It's in ya palms, in ya hair, dripping off your lips. it's everywhere. 

-mr perfect. What, you think you fucking special? 
-nah baby gurl I know I'm ugly. Fucking mental 
A real basket case, don’t get too close
I think id rather die alone
This a fucking awful second date

You want my honesty? You fucking got it. 
And honestly just keep the jacket, I don't fucking want it 
I shoulda stayed home, these bars just make wanna vomit 
If he touches me again he'll catch hands, that's a fucking promise  
***I know I shouldn't be so quick to snap 
I said I'm working on it bitch, get off my fucking back 
Feeling cornered, it's so tight in here I'm on attack 
Ima go bum some cigarettes cause only addicts buy packs 
***I'm real good at pushing yall away 
I'm real shit at making yall stay 
The real shit I kick is not for play 
Don't touch the speakers; yall in harms way 
The lord giveth and he take away 
And he take take take until there's nothing left 
Baby wait wait wait; just lemme catch my breath 
It's getting late late late, I know you need your rest 
  But I need you come give me a kiss Tell me I ain't a mess


Dope Days [prod. by a r p l]

ONODERA

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