Nostalgious - Christon Gray, Taelor Gray, B. Reith

Tryna remain decent on my descent

The layaway… oh not yet… ok thats cool

The layaway flow, a lot of things been on hold

I’ve been paying for something he gave away though

Guess I feel obligated probably since the day I came home

Don’t make a lot of sense the problem is I’m day to day low on change

Say it ain’t so, probably spend a lot of days

On condemnation I paper plate fold

Moping I’m motivated that’ll make me change clothes

I’m Django I feel a slave so I’m cautious

To say no but in the same note I’m bossin'

I stay broke but on the same note I’m flossin'

Knowin good and well I’m outta my range so I’m falsin'

Falsetto vibrato I lost it

Singin I am a god, but this ain’t livin'

If you just buying Lebrons, and this ain’t winning

If you just trying for bronze medallions

I used to keep my eye on the prize

Nostalgia

My oh my, Mya Blue eyes telling me

A story I describe as a true crime felony

The cruel world through the pupils of a school girl

I’m doing my best not to let it take form

To my surprise I’m nothing more than a pedigree

Working like a dog to keep the dogs off my door

But every dog has its day so I’m torn

Between home or the tour, rose or the thorns

I’m doin' my best not to let it take form

Me and my angels, triangle is the norm

But I’m caught up in the circle, spinning wheels till I’m worn

Push 'em to the edge, edges look worn

So I’m kneeling at my bed till my circle transform

To an octagon red, still I ignore

Back to the circles now I’m back in the storm

Blue grey eyes, gotta Skype her in the mornin

Night-night to Mya, to mommy its the norm

The honeymoon is gone, back to the swarm

I’m making more money but honey ain’t impressed

Cause she know about the stress and she knows about the porn

I can feel the disconnect, I can feel it even more

I’m trynna take a breath but there’s nothing like a scorn

I’m feeling so withered, ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone

I gotta go get it the circle’s your rock ladawn

Yo, this is King meets Calvin

Cold blooded 100 below kelvin

This nostalgia harder to read than Melville

On the same tide and we rolling like Yeldon

I drop anchor vibing to Ben Tankard

All of this advertising mind of a Don Draper

Gold rush in the tomb with the finer things

Meeting women on the fly grew some designer wings

Ribbon in the sky how cruel is the irony

I may never see it on my stool in the winery

Was in the swimming pools calling it the liver pool

Red-eye used to rock forces like a Jedi

Turn Puma turn lunar and eclipsed

Did the son preach my funeral the universe is sixpence

None richer journey big up in the system

Elevation is forever indwelling is the sixth sense

At times I tend to lose focus

Should, I scratch lines to render men hopeless

Or, flat line my own dreams of show biz so

His love can shine through this opus

I remember that moment like yesterday

Your smile came through the cloud

Nothing else mattered more in than that moment

When you called me out of the ground