"afro futurism" lyrics

Esoteric, generic
Zombie chasin' the carrot, a ferret on solid ground
The members are hound dog, don't bark at the sun
This a dog eat dog world, she got family to hunt
It's that time of the month
Blunt, bitches and booze, I could smoke on a good mood
You could squabble in the comments, bitch
You are a comet
Orbit 'round me, let my sun shine on you
Third degree, the burn sting, don't say I ain't warned you, nigga
I'm sendin' little books to little bears
Money on the commissaire, solitaire
Mimicking a home
The phone is a shotgun, the mailbox a possum
My letters play dead as they watch from the stock room
What's a costume party with no kids?
A bundle of nightsticks, a huddle of grown men
Chest heavin', breathin' like they god
Uh, slow demented
No incentive to ask, pretense so, so temptin'
To add intents to syntax
This verse could wrong one three fifths a human
New cast that deep in, too black to not fend
For they life, tightrope the matrix 'til we die
The sky says I'm still alive
The sky says I'm still alive
The sky says we're still alive

First I stayed on the island for like a few months, buh-buh-buh. processin', went to the box, I love the box. The box, I love the box on the island, I ain't had to deal with none of them fake niggas, everybody you locked up with was a gangsta, and everybody was gettin' it and everybody innocent. How you could be gettin' it and innocent at the same time? Oh, my god! Then I went to the box all my myself and I was like, "This is great," you know what I'm sayin'?