Gla** Dealer - Steppe lyrics

[Verse 1: Teether] As always, way too heavy handed with the spurs on You're wrong, and I have contemplated life without song So strong or evasive… I've nominated patience As the virtue I'll place faith in, I lose sight when I'm aching So I'm glad it is a rarity, TOO BIRDS as a remedy To all my issues currently, money among other things That disappear when set alight, my time will come if I survive I'm safe if I just stay inside, I swear I thought I'd die that night [Verse 2: Realname] Barely house broken from a broken home Broke liar like pinocchio with a broken nose In that tight dark space that I call my own home I was hoping I could genuinely do it Hoping I would do it genuinely Didn't have it in me Fork in the road and went the avenue that pinned me Voodoo doll in a f**ing toolbox Big fish in a fish tank in a pool shop Thinking I look hot so I swim to the cool spot And drink myself up till this fish tank ain't big enough for the two of us Then my bubble pops I act humble but I'm f**ing not Just so f**ing good at acting humble when I'm coming off fool able I'm a scarecrow in a human suit, my personalities a hula hoop spin it Who are you kidding [Verse 3: Teether] How do I put into words the man that I know I am So over-inspired, beats and flows so tired Grab a pack and settle in, I swear to God I've never been So damn productive, it's loud when I'm tucked in Find me winding loose threads in empty space with a spool Generational, secured into place with hand tools And a handful of arrows, I've been foreshadowed… And I heard until it's done, I'm just a shadow [Verse 4: Realname] I don't live to give a f** I only have it in me to forgive myself for not giving one If given the chance I would drop this sh** and run For the opportunity to rob the loot, leave the job to you Pop the boot for the pot of gold and cop the scrutiny for it Instead of moving toward it And working hard as my dad and end up getting nothing for it What is the point of kicking a fuss up for it Unless someone is kissing your knuckles for it If I could afford forgiveness for my gluttonousness yeah imma cut a few corners And you yawn as if you bored of this sureness inside you're torn to bits Taunted by compliments sure cause they wrong as sh**, honest Like to sound modest when I s** myself off Might chuck myself off the top shelf of my obsession compression session In confession booth sweating my shell off Scabs in the scalp like fake tickets [Verse 5: Teether] It's 3 in the afternoon and I've been blasting d**hspell My father heard the beat and voiced concern for legal matters Told him don't worry, got a firm grip on ish I handle A couple hidden kings inside the jacket for Dead Vandals Told myself I'd stay awake because my will is never traceable Consumption of the wounds opens the eyes to truths deplorable Spend my nights chopping goddamn samples after dinner How Toumani so swell on the kora? It don't matter [Outro: Realname] I get no sleep Cause I count to sheep My alphabet lacks those Zs