Oh Irene, oh won't you

stay with me, go on and on

repeatedly

 

Oh Irene, oh won't you

stay with me, go on and on

repeatedly

 

The ceiling's getting closer to my head every day.

When I get up I see shapes of gray, rainy clouds and I pray that this day, unlike yesterday, will see me chase the clouds away.

I'm turning tricks into fair play, foreplay,

a moment of honesty every now and then.

Behind ten layers of facade time and time again, golden ink on my paper, no more saving it;

sure it looked good, but you could tell the bitch was faking it.

 

Been working so hard that people’s faces are blurring. Purring; the constant noise Irene keeps on producing, 

while I'm focusing on always doing all that I know,

on making sure there'll be another show, yeah.

 

You're looking at him:

heavyweight champion.

A thousand straight tons of millennial depression.

Benching, find a place to

channel aggression.

Obsession, the only way I'm making progression.

 

You're looking at him,

and the box you tryna put me in.

All the shit you say ain't nothing but a has been.

Making Irene sound the way the world's never seen.

I'm going for the win.

 

As usual the kids got it under control.

Fit the plus sign through the shape of a ball. 

And it all comes so naturally,

it all fits so beautifully,

the key's creativity.

Now why the hell should I have to be ashamed of my game if it isn't the same as the shit you throw together and just jam in my face. 

A disgrace.

The finish line will tell who wins the race, and the entire thing will end in praise.

 

You're looking at him:

heavyweight champion.

A thousand straight tons of millennial depression.

Benching, find a place to

channel aggression.

Obsession, the only way I'm making progression.

 

You're looking at him,

and the box you tryna put me in.

All the shit you say ain't nothing but a has been.

Making Irene sound the way the world's never seen.

I'm going for the win.