Domo Genesis - Sam (Is Dead) lyrics

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Domo Genesis - Sam (Is Dead) lyrics

[Verse 1: Domo Genesis] This life is a game if you wanna play Counting all your own mistakes Living it with no delay So fast I'm getting growing pains Father didn't show me my instincts to take the open lane I go insane All these problems come with my growing age Blowing haze tryna clear the doubt that's sitting on my brain I don't complain but the kid inside me's feeling so restrained Gotta stay golden Let desire rekindle the flame Searching for the Fountain of Youth When I'm free in my brain [Bridge] Bring in the horns You hear that f**ing bra** That's little boy n***a with the trumpets Marching with the bandwagon Looking for his heart No sleeve but his hand carry muskets Lurking in the meadows, Oblivion Mothaf** Geppetto, he's a leader not a puppet Some professors nuttier than Klump's dick So think before you blink and aye-aye make a**umptions [Refrain] n***as! Your left, your left, your left, right left n***as is coming! Your left, your left, your left, right left [Verse 2: Tyler, The Creator] They want a story - a story I write the sh** that I find very amusing Cause all the other f**ing stories are boring It's really awkward to know that a bunch of kids do adore me It's like I fathered these f**ers So you won't find me on Maury I'm still a kid in my heart so I have a problem maturing But it will come from experiences and sh** I see touring I'm like a bird when I'm soaring, really high And I'm really horny, from watching this p**n Nope, but [Bridge + Refrain] [Interlude] 5, 4, 3, 2, and where's Tyler? [Verse 3: Tyler, The Creator] Bottom of the countdown, sh** ain't been the same Since I found out Hodgy Beats ghost wrote for Bow Wow Now I'm the loud shock value style foul mouth f**er That your teenage kid likes to bow down Riding around town in Seattle With the same shotgun that Kurt used to click-clack, boom-pow Still suicidal but some a**ume that I'm cool now Cause I got a f**ing award and my own room now Nope but I can flip sh** like a couch pillow And have my d**h silent like a loose vowel The bandwagon turned into caboose, so So, don't let that little n***a trumpet lose sound, just let him play