You’re running so fast in the wrong direction
Not one to stand on the side of convention
Think you’re heating up but you’re coolin’
You’re fat and you’re droolin’
The local babblin’ fool man
Your face caked with the taste of last night’s pile
You’ve been at it for days and still wearin’ a smile
Who would’ve guessed that the heart in your chest
It would never need rest
Ride out the same old tank ‘til there’s nothing left
It’s the same kind of player in this kind of game
I bet the story would fit if you just changed the name
Any guy who thinks he’s king of the town
Is usually the one that’s burnin’ it down
The taxes will show he’s a holistic healer
But the people in town know him as the dealer
Nothing to share but plenty to buy
Driveway lookin’ like a drive-thru line
He’s flowin’ with cash but it comes with a catch
He passes the rock then it’s back to the stack
A life wrapped up in using
But so long as he’s groovin’
What could he possibly be losing?
It’s the same kind of player in this kind of game
I bet the story would fit if you just changed the name
Any guy who thinks he’s king of the town
Is usually the one that’s burnin’ it down
Every night out he walks into the closet
Grabs a silk shirt with the stash pocket
Bottle filled and he’s ready to rock it
A well-oiled machine only blue can stop this