Marcus Velazquez - Zealots of Stockholm lyrics

Work all week, at my place of occupation, and at home Friends and family don't know whats going on When I'm gone I'm a ghost, I mean well But I still slip through through the cracks On the weekend my rooms a ghost town Coworker tellin' me to chill out She can see in my face I'm about to snap She said "it's always the quiet ones." This boss is bringing me to the brink Riding me, no saddle or petroleum jelly Try and press me, no swiss miss This miss is about to get me to flip my lid and switches Its about to get ridiculous Just want to make it through this work period Period, f** the month, it's that time of the week Where I let it all go, but no one around here knows Fresh faces pa**ing phases, ducking phasers Night time always the right time, spit the right rhymes Under dim lights, these chicks speak slick sh** Feel my heart knock, my tickers toking jaw unhinge, human syringe rise like stock Stuff her like stocking Pristine vagine eating or slaying machine In the showers for hours, she spit, I'm sour Trying to hold my own, and never cower Make a meal of her, cannibals Till her heads ringing, trade her cunnilingus Make her shriek like she's bungee jumping Who doesn't want to feel something Back it, like we hit the rewind bu*ton Mild mannered, getting asked about the weekend Describe it discreetly, that discretion Cherry pick the details, matter of fact no one knows Mums the word, what have you heard Keep my nose clean, I don't need my name slurred Sop up facts with like liquid to napkins, As far as anyone knows, nothing really happened, Well for now, till the levees crack Maybe forever or maybe never, who knows I don't I couldn't see them see wild'n keep everything separated