Innerspace f. Toby Lyrics
| Song | Innerspace f. Toby |
| Artist | Cunninlynguists |
| Album | Strange Journey Volume Three |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| Deacon: | |
| I remember as youngin' | |
| Slummin' with my crusaders | |
| Garcia Vegas, burglarizing neighbors for Segas | |
| Lil schemers, countin' Beemers, Benzes & Acuras | |
| It's tough to count blessings when battlin' Count Dracula | |
| Life's fangs'll drain yo blood in floods | |
| Can't wade in that water because of rogue scuds | |
| Role models taught us you oughta just role up | |
| In life there's no love whatever yo role was | |
| Find wealth | |
| No need to find self | |
| Stand in line until you find your spot on a shelf | |
| (Sold!) | |
| Don’t mean to sound cold, got my soul singing baritone | |
| Feelin' down low | |
| To think | |
| Of those in this winter with no mink, or folk | |
| weathering this desert with no drink to cope | |
| Some chain smoke with no link or hope | |
| Just dope, tree and a rope | |
| Deacon: | |
| You are the living truth of life ooh ooh | |
| The fastest can’t run from who they are | |
| I’d run from self but no man can run that far (x2) | |
| Turn the page, eventually I hit a certain age | |
| Learned that all the freedom was worthless when you’re afraid | |
| Success can often be a perfect cage | |
| Searching for a way to stay the same while the world will change | |
| A prisoner, trapped in the regret | |
| Cuz the ego can’t keep up if they happen to reject it | |
| Sometimes you want so bad to be respected | |
| Goin’ after it ‘til you’ve left your happiness neglected | |
| I’ve seen the weakness in grown men | |
| Playing games with their pain, they cheat but they don’t win | |
| Seen ‘em feed the needle deep into their own skin | |
| Tryna find a fleeting bit of peace in that moment | |
| More success to fix what’s left | |
| Take an even bigger risk like after this I’ll rest | |
| Til he painted with a razor on his wrist a red | |
| The color of lips, pucker up it’s the kiss of death | |
| Natti: | |
| I’m Bustin’ Loose, no Wilder, just a Pryor (prior) | |
| and that debt was paid in spades and barbed wire | |
| Later use eyes to weigh and move fire | |
| Then moved crowds in wades with hellfire | |
| Meet a fan, kick it witcha, take a picture | |
| Sign both titties and give a pound to your mister | |
| It’s been real | |
| Realer than steel I’da grabbed before I picked up a pen and a pad | |
| Shit it’s been chill | |
| Chiller than the look in the eye of a junkie when he’s looking to buy looking to fly | |
| Pyrex on the good eye of a broke stove | |
| Pyramid of cans, tin foil with poke holes | |
| Soft white girl break your nose and gets harder | |
| Revenge of the caine (Kane), the original Get Carter | |
| Take your favorite star, make him into a martyr | |
| Life ain’t Trending, it’s ending | |
| See farther |
| Deacon: | |
| I remember as youngin' | |
| Slummin' with my crusaders | |
| Garcia Vegas, burglarizing neighbors for Segas | |
| Lil schemers, countin' Beemers, Benzes Acuras | |
| It' s tough to count blessings when battlin' Count Dracula | |
| Life' s fangs' ll drain yo blood in floods | |
| Can' t wade in that water because of rogue scuds | |
| Role models taught us you oughta just role up | |
| In life there' s no love whatever yo role was | |
| Find wealth | |
| No need to find self | |
| Stand in line until you find your spot on a shelf | |
| Sold! | |
| Don' t mean to sound cold, got my soul singing baritone | |
| Feelin' down low | |
| To think | |
| Of those in this winter with no mink, or folk | |
| weathering this desert with no drink to cope | |
| Some chain smoke with no link or hope | |
| Just dope, tree and a rope | |
| Deacon: | |
| You are the living truth of life ooh ooh | |
| The fastest can' t run from who they are | |
| I' d run from self but no man can run that far x2 | |
| Turn the page, eventually I hit a certain age | |
| Learned that all the freedom was worthless when you' re afraid | |
| Success can often be a perfect cage | |
| Searching for a way to stay the same while the world will change | |
| A prisoner, trapped in the regret | |
| Cuz the ego can' t keep up if they happen to reject it | |
| Sometimes you want so bad to be respected | |
| Goin' after it ' til you' ve left your happiness neglected | |
| I' ve seen the weakness in grown men | |
| Playing games with their pain, they cheat but they don' t win | |
| Seen ' em feed the needle deep into their own skin | |
| Tryna find a fleeting bit of peace in that moment | |
| More success to fix what' s left | |
| Take an even bigger risk like after this I' ll rest | |
| Til he painted with a razor on his wrist a red | |
| The color of lips, pucker up it' s the kiss of death | |
| Natti: | |
| I' m Bustin' Loose, no Wilder, just a Pryor prior | |
| and that debt was paid in spades and barbed wire | |
| Later use eyes to weigh and move fire | |
| Then moved crowds in wades with hellfire | |
| Meet a fan, kick it witcha, take a picture | |
| Sign both titties and give a pound to your mister | |
| It' s been real | |
| Realer than steel I' da grabbed before I picked up a pen and a pad | |
| Shit it' s been chill | |
| Chiller than the look in the eye of a junkie when he' s looking to buy looking to fly | |
| Pyrex on the good eye of a broke stove | |
| Pyramid of cans, tin foil with poke holes | |
| Soft white girl break your nose and gets harder | |
| Revenge of the caine Kane, the original Get Carter | |
| Take your favorite star, make him into a martyr | |
| Life ain' t Trending, it' s ending | |
| See farther |
| Deacon: | |
| I remember as youngin' | |
| Slummin' with my crusaders | |
| Garcia Vegas, burglarizing neighbors for Segas | |
| Lil schemers, countin' Beemers, Benzes Acuras | |
| It' s tough to count blessings when battlin' Count Dracula | |
| Life' s fangs' ll drain yo blood in floods | |
| Can' t wade in that water because of rogue scuds | |
| Role models taught us you oughta just role up | |
| In life there' s no love whatever yo role was | |
| Find wealth | |
| No need to find self | |
| Stand in line until you find your spot on a shelf | |
| Sold! | |
| Don' t mean to sound cold, got my soul singing baritone | |
| Feelin' down low | |
| To think | |
| Of those in this winter with no mink, or folk | |
| weathering this desert with no drink to cope | |
| Some chain smoke with no link or hope | |
| Just dope, tree and a rope | |
| Deacon: | |
| You are the living truth of life ooh ooh | |
| The fastest can' t run from who they are | |
| I' d run from self but no man can run that far x2 | |
| Turn the page, eventually I hit a certain age | |
| Learned that all the freedom was worthless when you' re afraid | |
| Success can often be a perfect cage | |
| Searching for a way to stay the same while the world will change | |
| A prisoner, trapped in the regret | |
| Cuz the ego can' t keep up if they happen to reject it | |
| Sometimes you want so bad to be respected | |
| Goin' after it ' til you' ve left your happiness neglected | |
| I' ve seen the weakness in grown men | |
| Playing games with their pain, they cheat but they don' t win | |
| Seen ' em feed the needle deep into their own skin | |
| Tryna find a fleeting bit of peace in that moment | |
| More success to fix what' s left | |
| Take an even bigger risk like after this I' ll rest | |
| Til he painted with a razor on his wrist a red | |
| The color of lips, pucker up it' s the kiss of death | |
| Natti: | |
| I' m Bustin' Loose, no Wilder, just a Pryor prior | |
| and that debt was paid in spades and barbed wire | |
| Later use eyes to weigh and move fire | |
| Then moved crowds in wades with hellfire | |
| Meet a fan, kick it witcha, take a picture | |
| Sign both titties and give a pound to your mister | |
| It' s been real | |
| Realer than steel I' da grabbed before I picked up a pen and a pad | |
| Shit it' s been chill | |
| Chiller than the look in the eye of a junkie when he' s looking to buy looking to fly | |
| Pyrex on the good eye of a broke stove | |
| Pyramid of cans, tin foil with poke holes | |
| Soft white girl break your nose and gets harder | |
| Revenge of the caine Kane, the original Get Carter | |
| Take your favorite star, make him into a martyr | |
| Life ain' t Trending, it' s ending | |
| See farther |
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