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jonathan hay - addict, pt. 2 lyrics
[intro: canibus]
uh and another one
that’s right jonathan, you’re my brother, son
[verse 1: frida dee]
standing outside, waiting for a sign
people p-ssing by, but i know that it’s time
tryna be what i’m not
but i’m still in the shadow from the rest of them
i’m not the same
you don’t know where i’m coming from
how’s my background? is my momma proud?
what’s the difference? oh, what’s the difference?
oh, tell me to go by myself
to be something great, that’s not a chance
i’m just a flower in the attic trying to survive
[verse 2: canibus]
sitting in the cave composed of amethyst
my brain cells exposed to cannabis
this is about more than being talented
i’ve experienced full blown avarice
if you’re a flower, i’m the soil beneath you
the nutrient rich roots that feed you
terra preta forever, telling you i never felt better
32 bars of some cheddar
the scent of a rose, flowers in a foxhole trench
cold, scared, naked to the elements
you know what they say, “all the cosmos is a stage”
and these are the words of a sage
flowers in the attic with cgi imagery graphics
my reality finna be magic
i be the first one to tell you, “i don’t know how it’s going down”
i just know how it’s not going down
round and round and round and round we go
since you just posted it, everybody know
round and round and round and round we go
since you just posted it, everybody know
a sardonic response to add to a somber ambiance
with a one legged man, let’s dance
have a gl-ss of peach, apple and pear brandy
and some potato vodka, here family
i made it myself, she looked me in my eyes and thanked me
she said the flowers looked like candy
now where the f-ck is my grammy?
how come i don’t get no grammy?
[verse 3: razzy]
while other ones grow in the meadows
i grow in darkness and in between shadows
despite all the dust and the static
i am the flower that blooms in the attic
while other ones look out the window
i sit alone with yesterday’s sorrow
despite all the dust and the static
i am the flower that blooms in the attic
others may seem problematic
they panic in all the erratic
but i’m just a hopeless romantic
in love with the constant sporadic
like a flower in the attic
a rose that grew in traffic
no matter, no matter the climate
i’m going to bloom in the rain or the attic
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