Lyrics
Window to the soul
Ceiling meet the wall
Find me on the Vogue
I'm like a ballroom star
If the category grace
If the category bars
If the category poise
Trust, I'ma take all
I'ma take off, trust
Ain't no slowing up, bruh
Navy been a boss and haters love me in a rut
I'm embracing all the flaws
And the shit I wouldn't touch, uh
Now it's most tangible, the animal in us, yeah
Limbic, limbo, timbos and blunts
I don't miss those, spliffs rolled
Grabba with the runtz
I'm a rich soul, Flipmode
I tip toe and stunt
Talkin' egg shells, the path made
My partner didn't run
Been a long day, that Bombay had me rather drunk
I was gone then, not at all phased
Now that I've sobered up
When I saw fate, I saw death
I saw self, it's all dealt, saw life
Them long nights waiting for the sun
Living wrong rights
And when I left, I put my faith in us
I give time, time and me
Love, mysteries to eat up
My knee fucked
I gotta kick my feet up, relax
Responding to this worry different
I would just react, facts
Niggas claim they know me well
But they don't know themselves well enough
I'm well off, I project she was a jezebel
But that was insecurities, eternity is met
When I flex my wings, I'm flourishing
My purpose in a shell
My protection is for certain, B
Pull the curtains see, my innermost I'm servicing
I won't vanish from the heat
That's what the Furness bring
I've learned a thing or two
Cut the trunk and see the birch rings
I'm unearthing what is present within my person
Ceiling meet the wall
Find me on the Vogue
I'm like a ballroom star
If the category grace
If the category bars
If the category poise
Trust, I'ma take all
Window to the soul
Ceiling meet the wall
Find me on the Vogue
I'm like a ballroom star
If the category grace
If the category bars
If the category poise
Trust, I'ma take all
If the category's grace I got it all
When I pirouette onto the stage
It make a nigga jaw fall
I'm on pointe like a pen with a ball
I stand above these niggas but I'm 5 foot 7 inch tall
Yeah, I make a man crawl on all fours
Just so he could kiss the ground I skip on
While I reapply my lip balm
I need some palm trees
A drink to sip on out to Santorini
With my niggas when we get on
Me and Zola planned it out
Got the map and scanned the route
I got tunnel vision, I ain't tryna take no roundabout
Just fuck with me the long way
While I build from ground up with this raw clay
Soon enough you'll see me at the Barclay
But they still can't see me on my best day
Wrote this on a Sunday, man
I'm working on my rest day
Pencil to the paper like it's test day
But I been knew that I would pass
I'm at the top of my class
See through niggas like glass-stained windows
All these friendly niggas ain't ya kinfolk
They intimidated by a pen stroke
Bunch of bitches, swear they on they menstrual
Get these niggas a pad
Grown ass men and I still son 'em like I'm dad
Shit is getting old, man, this shit is getting sad
This music is my life, but to you, it's just a fad
Hopefully, this phase shall too will pass
Don't forget these rainy days don't last
'Til then, I'll be lookin' out the
Window to the soul
Ceiling meet the wall
Find me on the Vogue
I'm like a ballroom star
If the category grace
If the category bars
If the category poise
Trust, I'ma take all
Window to the soul
Ceiling meet the wall
Find me on the Vogue
I'm like a ballroom star
If the category grace
If the category bars
If the category poise
Trust, I'ma take all
WRITERS
Benjamin Scholefield, George Henry Jackson, Kelly-Ann Oksana Saunders, Robert Alton Miller, Sage Elsesser
PUBLISHERS
Lyrics © Peermusic Publishing
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