Watsky - Live From Public Storage lyrics

[Hook] You wanna know where I live You wanna go where a boss does it big You want a show of my glamorous digs Well come on in baby baby welcome to my crib Welcome welcome to my crib, welcome to my crib Second story penthouse, that's what it is Rent's 80 bucks and I got no mortgage I'm coming live from Public Storaaaage! [Verse 1] How's that for a fast fact Two months pa**ed, I packed up my hatchback There's no plan B I want see You take the hills, the white pickets, the palm trees I'm balling with my kitchen and my liquor cabinet and my closet All together with my laundry And baby if you want to come and cuddle You know that I could just a lay a rug over the concrete I'm living at a low cost Plus you know I'm really loving having no boss My home is where I'm at at the present moment And I'm a stone that's always rolling so I gather no moss I'm a travel show, it's catacombs not the baddest homes I'll be a matador for the status quo And if we have to battle then I'll saddle up and smack attackers I defend my castle like the Alamo I hope to be the averagest joe with the savagest flows So imagine this schmoe as a catalyst Moving pa**ionate ma**es with All these mattresses propped up with packages I don't need to brag, f** a diva tag I don't think you'll ever see me up in People Mag But if paparazzi ever wants me they can stalk me to the backseat of my car and snap me in my sleeping bag [Hook] [Verse 2] Welcome to Hustle Headquarters Home of duffle bags, tomb of dead hoarders It's a corrugated community, doors like ruffle chips With the newest clean plywood floors Each corner of my unit be, decorated beautifully But I made it super cheap If putting honesty over money is stupid Then at least I've got the truth over my head and so I'm duty free There's a kid in me who's proud of who I grew to be Skipping like an idiot no matter what you do to me But I never blink cause I keep missing opportunity Thinking I've been moving since they put me in a booster seat Man I've been moving since my parents gave these roots to me And now I'm trying to do it right so they can root for me Of course I've got a lot of want and I'mma pop a bottle In a week or two when I review my resolution sheet Because these students used to spit at me But all the sh**'s forgiven cause I'm spittin' for a livin' As if Superman just really liked to grip the mic lots I'd still hit the pipe if it's packed with kryptonite rock It might seem like I was here before I knew it But when I die remember that I wasn't born into it So don't bury me just, stuff me full of packing peanuts And put me in a storage unit [Hook]