[Push Push]
Thunderwolf like when your heart drops
Rattles in your chest like space rocks
Babbles back to you like ba*tard rap Bach
Metastasizing rap through every blood clot
Never backing down until your heart stops
Top notch, a snap crackle and pop kind of detox
Future's odd, I'm working in Sweatshirt's sweatshop
Paid in full in favours paid in drinks on rooftops
Feel it in your veins like your blood's swapped
Votes are in, you lost the landslide by ten spots
You're up there playing DJ on your laptop
Looking like a teenage hearthrob
Lights behind you framing you like some sort of demi-god
Lucky for me I'm on a boyscout boycott
Left you a mixtape in your postbox
Made of songs that sound like when your love's lost
[Push Push Chorus]
I made you a mixtape, it's songs that sound how I imagine you taste
It's songs that sound like how you taste of toothpaste]
And cigarettes and sundays
And songs by frank ocean that make me feel teenage
I made you a mixtape
It's songs that sound how I imagine you taste
It's songs with a hidden of replays
Embara**ing ones, like Drizzy and T-Pain
And all those other f**in' rap cliches
[Comfy Hammocks]
I like my women like my liquor store
Open and unconditional
The one I gotta give up the other's non-negotiable
Emotional mishaps misfiring the dispatch
Mismatched and unlatched and sh**
All I could taste was saccharine and plastic
4am phone screams bug full trash talk
Energetic imagination paper plane plain as paper
Woolworthlessness lizard king shuffle
Duffel bag filled with moral gymnastics
Saccharine, f**in' saccharine and plastic
Eratic banned together like elastic on a metal guitar
sh**, you string me along like the back of our wedding car
Tied rock on a tight rope
A tiger suited Jake mask
The biker's swoop and shape cast
Is the shadow of his former ambition and scope
Pucker up and pick up the rope
Try cope like the graf king
Stop acting
Like my salvation lies in the hands of the women I keep attracting
It's impacting on my speak like my wisdom teeth
I keep trashing all the tripe but the bins still leak
Self-served therapy
You pay for the lifetime membership the buffet comes for free
Unless you're dead or you're me see
[Push Push Chorus]
I made you a mixtape, it's songs that sound how I imagine you taste
It's songs that sound like how you taste of toothpaste]
And cigarettes and sundays
And songs by frank ocean that make me feel teenage
I made you a mixtape
It's songs that sound how I imagine you taste
It's songs with a hidden of replays
Embara**ing ones, like Drizzy and T-Pain
And all those other f**in' rap cliches