Crash

Too damn vexed, in this Moncler vest
Two-tone leather with the off-set-coalesce, more or less
She's my four-leaf clover, and I'm her second best

Rosalee, 
My Rosalee
With the red cheeks 
And black ban-UV's

Figure of eights
-'On top of Fuji 
Can't get no signal
With this 2G

Rosalee, 
My Rosalee
With the red cheeks 
And black ban-UV's

Figure of eights
-'On top of Fuji 
Can't get no signal
With this 2G

One, two, three
She's one to keep
Found her in the ice rink, bourgeoisie
Gave her some flowers and loads of Gucci
-and she gave me my Calgary's

Cherry blossom trees, playboy magazines, black beamers and rollies, black beamers and rollies
Cherry blossom trees, playboy magazines, black beamers and rollies, black beamers and rollies

Rosalee, 
My Rosalee
With the red cheeks 
And black ban-UV's

Figure of eights
-'On top of Fuji 
Can't get no signal
With this 2G

Rosalee, 
My Rosalee
With the red cheeks 
And black ban-UV's

Figure of eights
-'On top of Fuji 
Can't get no signal
With this 2G

I feel so holy.
I might get nose-bleeds.
I might need cryotherapy

These cold extremities
Expanding out, to humility
I'm stuck in this minus degree
Walking a tightrope across the sea

Where the ice is too damn sweet
Cracking at my feet

Rosalee, 
My Rosalee
With the red cheeks 
And black ban-UV's

Figure of eights
-'On top of Fuji 
Can't get no signal
With this 2G

Rosalee, 
My Rosalee
With the red cheeks 
And black ban-UV's

Figure of eights
-'On top of Fuji 
Can't get no signal
With this 2G

Rosalie

Into the Abyss

20/20 Vision

Doin' 80, in the Mercedes
- down the Auto-ban,
- down the Auto-ban.

Counting bands, 
-in the stands,
On the Auto-ban (Yahhh)

Gucci, so Chic.
Wrist, so fleek. 
Call up Meek Mills for my (Rollie)
Up the hill,
in ebony. 
Antique, drive-by
Niggas need to eat.
The GTR, 
so Antif. 
Black chrome rims, 
Zero to a hundred to two eighty. 
(Godspeed)

(Godspeed)
(Godspeed)
(Godspeed)

Going so fast, on the track, down the left lane
Running on flames, certified propane

Left the G-Class, for the blacked out Beamer
Switched out the AG, for something leaner

In the end, 
nothing matters
I'm...flying
I'm...dying
(At Godspeed)

(Godspeed)
(Godspeed)
(Godspeed)
(Godspeed)

Godspeed

I just left the coup, - wild-night, city-lights, now we in the ute'
One-stop livin, crashed the party, for the interview
Got me in commercials, shootin' with Terry Crews
Not bad' livin - clear-headed for the views

I don't wanna ice-up, wanna find a nice shirt 
Can't see anything through these windscreen wipers...cus I'm a...
low-rider - parking on the high-curbs - suburbia livin,
I might need pfizer

Talking to Skylar,  my Lady Godiva - 
watching Kill Bill half-way through the cider, 
whole house glowing, but the flames ain't getting higher

having second thoughts

I light the match
And sit back
Watch the whole thing turn into ash
It's hell fire

I light the match
And sit back
Watch the whole thing turn into ash
It's hell fire

Come on baby, tell me that you meant it,
Am I seeing rainbows or is this the ending?
No point pretending, with these false pretences, 
credits rolling — back to the beginning 

Cus you got me spinning, always reminiscing, 
with the memory of your image, that cashmere coat with the linen - 
got me in my feelings - push the boat out to the water

cus I can't be swimming,  in this game you're winning... 


I light the match
And sit back
Watch the whole thing turn into ash
It's hell fire

I light the match
And sit back
Watch the whole thing turn into ash
It's hell fire

Hellfire
Hellfire
Hellfire

Hellfire

Touchdown in Miami, off the runway, out to Cali
Need a postcard for my Maddy, signed in ballpoint, automatic
Gotta get home for Christmas, says she’s got her daddy on the wish-list
But I’m in foreign skies, skating on thin blue ice
Thinking of my Rosalie, iced-out, heavy

Her eyes pulled down like roller blinds
Cuts through me just like a knife

Pack of Marlboros on the dash, heavy glow
Head-first in the bag, bleeding slow
No phone, no cash
(No phone, no cash)
Bleeding out in the ash

Heart’s beating
Made it out of the crash

Ribbons on the dash
Red blood in the grass
Covered in black debris and glass
Hit the wall, going too fast

Stuck in the moment
Stuck in the black

And a black feather drifts down
Into a picture of you
My girl
My blackbird

Pack of Marlboros on the dash, heavy glow
Head-first in the bag, bleeding slow
No phone, no cash
(No phone, no cash)
Bleeding out in the ash

Heart’s beating
Made it out of the crash

Blackbird

Dolce and Gabbana

Two for one, at the Costco
Two for two, on the Metro
Two for three, in the Cosmos

My baby is starlight, made out of chrome
I call her phone - no voice at the tone
She’s actin’ like nobody’s home
I’m fine on my own

AC-130, she did me dirty
She got that body, just like Liz Hurley
I don’t deserve this, I was of service, I know
I don’t feel worthy, show me some mercy, Lord
I been floating out to the shore
Feels like a game where I respawn, Lord

I’ve closed all the hatches, boarded the walls
But I’m in a nose-dive, just like Concord
Awaiting the flight, awaiting the light
For the after-life

My baby is starlight, made out of chrome
I call her phone - no voice at the tone
She’s actin’ like nobody’s home
I’m fine on my own

Seeing all kinds of shit through this window
Leaning into the pane of the Metro
Thinking of packing my bags for Chicago
She’s playing games, just like Nintendo
Hanging out to dry, I’m in limbo

Shoot me up with the Novocaine, purple rain
Make the pain fall away, I can’t face
All these demons in my way - I need the tourniquet
The only way to slow the pain

My baby is starlight, made out of chrome
I call her phone - no voice at the tone
She’s actin’ like nobody’s home
I’m fine on my own
I’m fine on my own
I’m fine on my own

Hellfire

Nylz

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