Turning - Holy Smoke

Can’t break away, act brave cuz they pack away

A gold plated handle, bullet holes in the candle

Not a trace of love, the impact is facing up

Taste the rum

Numb if anything or something else become it

But what was once peace under the coven

Couldn’t help but be destructive

Son of the sun it’s the epilogue for Decepticons

Son of the puppet, punch kick fuck pushing buttons

Touch of the gunner

Watch my bullets sink deep in the son of the lone gunner

Over butter hot cutters

Baby papa from that gutter mothership

And copped a dust flower maybe we can twist

Visions of the myth

Niggas bathing in flames of piff

They rewrite scripts, so many dreams of yesterday

While balls of flame burn the city to waste, they haste

To the front of the line to show face

But she needed a taste, knees to the face

Wake yawn, stretch, walk, eat, beats, text, talk

Pace, pack, pew!

damn I lost my house shoe

Start that song palming' the calm, I’m bout to

Personify intention ambish the hell out that how to

I dare you, awkward or lonely, I’ll hug the fuck out you

Come bounce with the count conundrum

Throwing stones you can’t bounce to

Trust enough could get ugly

Thus the clutch must doubt you

Force can’t move dude, swipe no value

So sit still, watch me abandon…

Who?

what?

To lunch while the body stands in.

Beat Soup whats up?

Camaraderie strands are rampant

Groove and such

I gotta be raw, Badass man

Just lose the crutch

So sit still, watch me abandon…

Who?

what?

To lunch while the body stands in.

Beat Soup whats up?

Camaraderie strands are rampant

Groove and such

I gotta be raw, Badass man

Pop ooze the guts

And as summer comes to close

Coasting on my Ghost ship

Queen Marry roasted

Rings and roses

Mo' posies in the pocket

Never down, high doses

Dabbing' ashes off the rocket

Profit off a numbers, see seven for details

Got misread emails

Been tryna chop it up with Obst from the juice mag

I stress the coalesce, my best ain’t too bad

But sun come in second to stupid niggas in do-rags?

No separation my nigga, I’m all people

Genie, Jafar, Kendrick Lamar and Lil' B too

This vegan eat seafood, chickens need to reboot

Read mo, moo, me, my, May

June, July, mad months

Tracks stack toward black fronts

Wrote more than half this shit taking a bad one

So funky man, it ain’t even coo

Jae R for this one, you’s a foo

Too hard, too strong man, but what can you do?

I haven’t a clue, I’m just fucking with you

What am I turning into?