Kumayl, Still Chris - A Process of Life and Love

Don't know what to buy cause I'm too high
Got a fiver in my pocket and it's too light
Don't know what to buy cause I'm too high
Got a fiver in my pocket and it's too light
(Too light)

Girl your new perfume
It keeps haunting me
Why the fuck would you choose to smell like my aunti jee
See when I pull up on this party beat
I'm soaked in booze and smoking on the hearty greens
Its haram activity
I'm the bad guy in the nativity
Ruin your play and then the kids begin to mimic me
Not a role model man
I don't want no mini me's
Replicate the chemistry
Can't do that just let it be
(Hear me)
This is my zindagi man
You can't compete with genuine energy and
When I toke the celery the mind gets levity
They start befriending me
Cause I got the remedy
For the sick beats find the tester fee
Know my shit
Rinse and repeat
Got the recipe
To the tag team of the century
Talking shit mate thats my destiny
Got the pedigree
I'm a rarer breed
(What, what)

Dunno what to buy
Dunno what
Dunno what to buy
Dunno what to buy
Cause I'm
Cause I'm
Too high
Dunno what to buy
Dunno what
Dunno what to buy
Dunno what to buy
Cause I'm
Cause I'm
Too high, Dunno what to buy
Dunno what
Dunno what to buy
Dunno what to buy
Cause I'm
Cause I'm
Too high
Dunno what to buy
Dunno what
Dunno what to buy
Dunno what to buy
Cause I'm
Cause I'm
Too high

Used to be able to sing
I'm not lying I swear thats its true
Rocked Adele and the blues
Grab the guitar at the party
To bring down the mood
(What a snooze)
Back with the squeaky clean throat
Hit every note
Singing arpeggios high as they go
You know how this goes
Got going getting high
Playing field smoke
Throat starting feeling those blues
Strained from the highs
To which it was used
(Too few)
Breaks left my throat feeling rancid and tragic
Gone were the days of the singer romantic
Put the acoustic away
Packed up my gear and called it a day
Till K passed a j and he quietly said
There's a funky jam sandwich I think we should make
And it could be great
It could be everything up on your plate
It could be silver platter holding an explosion of taste
I said mate
Sounds like a plan lets jam
Lets get funky and trippy I wanna match that
(Dam I said)
Mate
Sounds like a plan lets jam
Lets get crazy and wavy and hazy then maybe
Mate
Sounds like a goddamn plan
Like a goddamn plan

So I stepped up to the bar
Took a shot got dizzy
That tequila shit got me feeling real frisky
Blood rush on the dance floor
Scope and A grade cunt pulling B rate stunts out the door
Strutting my stuff
Nowhere to run
Move
Watch me talking with the rum mask on
Rude
Yea been drinking that shit since noon
Keep my eyes sedated so I might act smooth
Yea our livers
Been working too long
Pumping out the poison from dusk till the break of dawn
Every time
Every night
I'll be right
Out of sight
Sipping on my pint

Written by:
Chris Stillie, Kumayl Zaidi

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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