The Neverending Mixtape, 724x, Wolfman Longarm, callmevince, Stan Forreal, BeetFarmAssist - Who You Foolin' Lyrics

I'm a damn professional
Stay on the left side of a decimal
By about seven places
Everybody hates on the life till you taste it
Everybody stay wanna fight when you wasted
I'll really knock a nigga back to the basics
Paces back
I don't really wanna catch a case in fact
There's a high chance that they hate the black
I'm racing at the ape bathing
I'm too busy spending just to save shit
I'm too busy drumming up amazement
From people who denied my conversation
Patient
Yes I really stayed waiting
For them to vacate and go on vacation
Down to them breaks, with no placation
I clown on them fakes who run they nation

Some folks are lost, never to be found
How far can you go, before you run that body down
I like to have a good time
But how many nights can you keep doing what you been doing
Who are we fooling

You see, I woke up invisible
Shit, guess it's better that than missing you
I been, driving away from my demons
But catching up is all the shit that I didn't do
I roll up my problems in a blunt
Packed up all my baggage and I threw it in the trunk
Laid a brick on the pedal, hopped out the whip
Watched it skip across the pebbles, make a drop off the cliff
I lie awake faded watching days go by
And only at the lows do I chase that high
Pour a little more to escape my mind
My eyes aint on the road, I can't trace that line
And I'm gone
Ringing on the doorbell, echoes in the hallways
There's nobody home
Hundred missed calls, guess I dropped off my phone
Up above my mind in the sky all alone

Some folks are lost, never to be found
How far can you go, before you run that body down
I like to have a good time
But how many nights can you keep doing what you been doing
Who are we fooling

Every damn sentence, Stan's transcended
Sent it from heaven, have faith, Miss Evans
Me myself, I'm still mourning love
Sunday mornings snoring listening to mourning doves
I saw eternity in burning trees
Yearning with an urgency reserved for birds and bees
Like a man worried bout his next meal
Stopped time when Dilla asked us
Is death real
Burnt my brain, with the purple rain
Pain saying more than any kind of word explains
I used to try to find hope
High on a tightrope
Worried that I might fall
Like shit, I might float
Nothing grandiose about an overdose
Watched too many turn pale and comatose
Watched too many pills slowly kill my friends
When will it end
We were built to bend
Those pangs of regret
For the cities I left
And the people I loved
And the demons I kept
Like damn