Mr. Rocket Shoes

Album: [Untitled]

No one gave me shit

I worked for this

At this point I’m just

done with encouragement

You say talented

I say calluses

I’m tasting my blood just pronouncing it

Since Fairfield days

The beats I made

I may have quit drinking but dream the same

I was told this the moon

Like good luck, Mr. Rocket Shoes

And they ask me why you workin’

All days of the week

To get somewhere you’ll never reach

I’ve been wishin’ for better so long

I guess I’m sick of wishing in by bed alone

If those wishes were weapons

Their full metal jackets are stuck

So fuck wishin’, I’m here with a gun

Jiminy Cricket never made me anyone

All my clips are full of bitterness

And I’m coming for you

I’ma bloom like a wicked magnolia

I’m not stoppin’ this

Just the opposite

I won’t drop when most people need oxygen

Since the green Lexus

Since the weed excess

Since the drink was my treatment for depression

Man, my lips been blue

Fuck what stitches do

I’ll put red on this mic like it’s ’92

I was told this the moon

Like good luck, Mr. Rocket Shoes

And they ask me why you workin’

All days of the week

Toward something you’ll never be

I’ve been wishin’ for better so long

I guess I’m sick of wishing in by bed alone

If those wishes were weapons

Their full metal jackets are stuck

So fuck wishin’, I’m here with a gun

Jiminy Cricket never made me anyone

All my clips are full of bitterness

And I’m coming for you

I’ma bloom like a wicked magnolia

Until I’m taken by weeds

My will is my leprosy

Instead of wounds that scrape the sheets

I’ve got no turn back in me

So set glass beneath my feet

Take the last breath that I need

To meet what glows beyond my reach

I’ll become a tragedy

There’s is no hell that spells retreat

Fuck your gravity

This to the grave

This to the grave