Lazy Eye

[Intro:]
(Super fresh)

[Verse 1:]
My spirit animal comes with a pretzel bun
Troll of the treadmill
Record on the Kessel Run (allegedly)
Edgy from elevenses to Megabucks
Techies with the treble down
This is how we level up
Dead meat, time travel, pressure, and disease
As ushered out of two fingers pecking at the keys
The coping mechanism in his LMNOP's
Went from healthy to unhealthy to a hell he never leaves
Cineplex Jesus, curse at the curly fries
Mulling over Chuck D telling me, "Diversify"
I'm at the Supercuts soupin' up the wardrobe
Forecast looking like Ganesh on four phones
"Hello, hello, hello, hello"
Base camp, space camp
Bass in your face fuck, brace for the rain dance
Back in the back of the classroom
After a magical nap in a vacuum.

[Hook:]
Act natural, whatever that means for you
Whatever that means for you
Whatever that means for you
(Superfresh)

[Verse 2:]
Before climbing douchebag mountain, I was skate or die
Started eating kale and came to terms with my lazy eye
Putting on the yoga lady, cutting off The Cable Guy
Whistle while you're waiting for your condition to stabilize
AV cables everywhere, every piece of vinyl scratched
Mentholated Tiger Balm, Aleve with the arthritis cap
Irons and the niacin, iron Quiet Riot mask
Unabashed privacy expanding into simulcast
40 winks, never the same adventure
Refreshing, or the single longest exorcism ever
In the end, you gotta wonder if it's even worth the effort
No stairways into Heaven, you can step into the Escher
Some people have mistaken my allegiance for a weakness
It fucked me up for eons, I wished I was a theist
The type to fake his death then forget he faked his death
Show up on TV, in the crowd at the AVNs, like...

[Hook]

(Hey peace Aesop uh It's Chuck D
Yo man, you keep doin' what you're doin' man
Keep rhymin' through those walls, alright?)

[Verse 3:]
Sometimes I feel my heart putrefying inside my body
From diary of dark to piety in the Ponzi
On my better days they mingle and walk off into the poppy
On my worst, the work is overshadowed by the monte
Had to buy some clothes that fit me
And pretend I like agave
With a promise to his congress not to compromise the motley in him
Maybe I should kinda sorta move to Mars
I'm feeling kinda done, too many moving parts
The piss-poor vision is 40 percent floaters
The kitchen is a chorus of glorious leftovers
The friends you confessed all the dark shit to
Had weaponized the information before we could send roses
And they want a little pearl on how he got to where he at
I can't remember where I am, I feel it's probably a trap
Balk with the lawless, cough in his notes
Walk on even when the walls hug his coat.

[Hook:]
Act natural, whatever that means for you
Whatever that means for you
Whatever that means for you
(Superfresh)