Banana Peels Collab wit Lucy

#RapPad niggas we tripping, we spitting without no writtens

Smitten with legends of far days past

Like a spell cast falling into our own mind traps

We ain't finishing last we the fast and the furious

Mind spinning on that luxurious, if its death to the curious

We zombies and we numerous, ideas illuminous

Illusionists on every street corner, former living, but dead no more,

Loner on nobody's sonar

meds made my friends in my head fend

For themselves, a neurotic commonwealth, chaotic past twelve

Knelt before myself, out of body out of mind

But would you be so kind to tell me the time

Dreamland, a sanity rehab where I freelance

Look at my hand man, doping like Lance popping Vivanze

Fucking trance in my sweatpants, the walls closing

And we roaming like we Romans, fucking beat Ronins

New emotions not knowing where I'm going, sipping codeine potions

Words loaded, don't sugercoat it, don't you know it, it's time to overthrow it

millennium of oblivion, hotboxing condominiums

its an idiom fucking with your equilibrium

rhymes so alien, they call us reptilians

writing into the postmeridians, riding on fumes like we're indians

They forget bout us till they need our assistance

The key is persistence, maintaining our existence treating our minds like a mistress

Arizona by the gallon, box full of ramen, Xbox full of Madden, a right brain substantially barren

Ecstasy has the walls as soft as satin, as I involuntarily imagine

A new world with no captain at the cannon

not necessarily canon but what we lack in passion

we make up in fashion and the way we imagine

The way we ration, playing super smash bros as captain falcon

Looking at my heart like its half full, I did my part when it's all bull

But this shawty got a pull, got my heart feeling like its all null

 

Roll the windows up, smokin' indo in the doors of my condo,

relax and chill, I ain't out to drown my sorrow in that liquor bottle,

just click and clack the semi auto, nah put the car in the throttle,

probably wake up baked but wasted, shit-face, painted tomorrow,

I'm not that hollow, we just live our lives, don't wallow in our sorrow,

the police can't stand the trippiness, they investigated like Gestapo,

cop a couple games at the store then I hit it and get lost, yo,

spittin' shit so trippy like a hippy but it's deeper than a pothole,

reignin' like Chance Tha Acid King, dreams like acid, my motto,

is I'm living everyday like I just won the motherfuckin' lotto,

paintin' vivid pictures, wicked images like a lyrical Picasso,

wakin' up everyday like I'm Sanford and Son, like I'm all Rollo,

probably drive a stick shift or auto or souped up Monte Carlo,

doesn't matter, get the munchies, grab a couple crunchy tacos,

from the Bell, inhale well like the Devil, sleepin' deep as the foxholes,

trippy's what I got yo, me and Moo$e prolly shoot a lot of O's