Young Hippy - Morning After Lyrics

Welcome to the after party, please come take a seat
Go kick up your feet, maybe even grab a bite to eat
Cause I'm smoking Dutch treat, while you play this on repeat
Swear my brain spits to the rhythm of my own heartbeat
I'm just on this journey until my saga completes
An athlete on these tracks, yeah, nobody else competes
You could call me Dwight, the way I own all of these beats
Now I pour my thoughts into the songs, instead of wasting them on tweets
My rhymes infectious like the plague, it's like a virus
This my kingdom, I'm the greatest, bitch, call me Cyrus
Spit ancient texts, my raps written on papyrus
Fuck Ibiza, I'm in Giza, seeing with my third iris
Make gold out of nothing, call me Midas
Hallucinating visions, I can barely describe this
Uh, I can barely describe this, hallucinating, I can barely describe
Wake up in the morning and I ask myself
Is life worth living, should I blast myself
Because every night seems like a blur
And every morning I'm cleaning empty bottles off my shelf
I put some oil on a nail, then I inhale
My mind fade as I watch that shit melt
Just trying to do the best with what I got left
Cause I fucked up the cards that I was dealt
Now, this that type of feeling that you get the morning after
Now it's all done, there's no more fun, there's no more laughter
Rather than dwell on the factor, smoke some master
Yeah it came and went, but it's just another chapter
Need an outlet to recharge me, music my adapter
Rolling up leafs, smoke Jays, ball like a Raptor
Write these songs so the voices in my head will scatter
Those who matter won't mind, those who mind don't matter
Call me sting, I'm all alone, posted in the rafter
Got an appetite for beats, I eat them off this platter
Mind broken from this smoking, dab until my brain shatter
Heard them saying cleanse your souls for the rapture
But kids in the hood prolly sins less than a pastor
Wake up in the morning and I ask myself
Is life worth living, should I blast myself
Because every night seems like a blur
And every morning I'm cleaning empty bottles off my shelf
I put some oil on a nail, then I inhale
My mind fade as I watch that shit melt
Just trying to do the best with what I got left
Cause I fucked up the cards that I was dealt

Welcome to the after party, please come take a seat
Go kick up your feet, maybe even grab a bite to eat
Cause I'm smoking Dutch treat, while you play this on repeat
Swear my brain spits to the rhythm of my own heartbeat
I'm just on this journey until my saga completes
An athlete on these tracks, yeah, nobody else competes
You could call me Dwight, the way I own all of these beats
Now I pour my thoughts into the songs, instead of wasting them on tweets
My rhymes infectious like the plague, it's like a virus
This my kingdom, I'm the greatest, bitch, call me Cyrus
Spit ancient texts, my raps written on papyrus
Fuck Ibiza, I'm in Giza, seeing with my third iris
Make gold out of nothing, call me Midas
Hallucinating visions, I can barely describe this
Uh, I can barely describe this, hallucinating, I can barely describe
Wake up in the morning and I ask myself
Is life worth living, should I blast myself
Because every night seems like a blur
And every morning I'm cleaning empty bottles off my shelf
I put some oil on a nail, then I inhale
My mind fade as I watch that shit melt
Just trying to do the best with what I got left
Cause I fucked up the cards that I was dealt
Now, this that type of feeling that you get the morning after
Now it's all done, there's no more fun, there's no more laughter
Rather than dwell on the factor, smoke some master
Yeah it came and went, but it's just another chapter
Need an outlet to recharge me, music my adapter
Rolling up leafs, smoke Jays, ball like a Raptor
Write these songs so the voices in my head will scatter
Those who matter won't mind, those who mind don't matter
Call me sting, I'm all alone, posted in the rafter
Got an appetite for beats, I eat them off this platter
Mind broken from this smoking, dab until my brain shatter
Heard them saying cleanse your souls for the rapture
But kids in the hood prolly sins less than a pastor
Wake up in the morning and I ask myself
Is life worth living, should I blast myself
Because every night seems like a blur
And every morning I'm cleaning empty bottles off my shelf
I put some oil on a nail, then I inhale
My mind fade as I watch that shit melt
Just trying to do the best with what I got left
Cause I fucked up the cards that I was dealt