Youth // Service - Comatose Lyrics

F*ck bout the paper and money
Your flex is so funny my nose getting runny
I make a stack and I'll run it
No word out in public, we all doin' something
I'm eating good you on cheerios
Packing old beef we don't carry those
Put a hand under the pantyhose
Tell her I love her then fall out like dominos
Building on skills I'm an architect
Smoking some herb where the garden at
Spinning my words like a pirouette
I heard you capping, no percocet
I might say f*ck it
Youth // Service we run it
You tripping off something, go comatose
Locked in you still bumping
We got the block jumping
This shit ain't for nothing, our door is closed