Talkers Lyrics

Daddaaaaaa da dad aaaaa

Melancholy. No, really, my mellon's calling
My brain is slowing, I can't tell if all these
Visions are dreams or nightmares
Cause I dream a starter
But I start to dream I might fail
Drink down that shitty rhyme with Nyquil
I kill raps here and there but I'm still
A locco, locco, gone postal
Nothing from the postal
Man is a grind. For my test I won't pass
Fuck, I guess I'll smoke grass and Athal
Ain't that the truth? Got me five thousand Buicks
Now can we make that a million? I'm stealing the building
But no one seems to notice
I have every profesor
They can blow it on the Otis
Or act like I'm the youngest
Tho no harm's taken
I go so hard I got both arms wanking it
Thank the pricks who picked on me at grade school