Hoppin. Strawberry

GREGORY NICHOLS


Untitled. Lyrics

[Verse 1: Gregory Nichols]

Unnecessary conversations leave me facing

Desperate housewives with the chime, so don't forget what he's lacing

Productive mindset, ain't even the best bet

Leave you sitting with my pet, and dancing like a majorette

Now Don't forget about fact that I over stress and do recollect

You're paying money to the Text
I Show up in hell and then collect

Garnish your wages
Then go wild out on stages

Paying money to karma, and then you sing about the changes

(Well) we were both parted by things that we had both wanted

Forth cometh, money gets Flaunted, and random feelings unwanted
(Well now I)
Got this random mindset
Of trying not to digest

Gave Christian 10%, so that the man could pray less

Over stress, plotting on a mood like it's Y&X

Complex
Staying true to form until the grip lets

Now Take this triple six up to the cell, or the wishing well, now I wish you well

Postpone that trip to Hell, now I'm praying to god that I'll be dead by (Tuesday!)

Money gets funny, less comical
Makes a dream astronomical
Long as my depression chronicles

And it leaves you in a spell
Where's the lion witch and the wardrobe?

When you crossdress to get in my shoes
My laser beams will detect

Reject
Messing with the tampering of honest
More or less, twenty more counts of self-defense that I must confess

Chose to neglect, nostalgic Friends that I, can't respect

Try to reflect, I contemplate feelings that I don't expect

[Interlude]
(Woman chatter)

[Verse 2:]
Uh
None of your business trick, I handle my business and then go split

Give tips to those who can't exist
And those who never seem to fit

Inside, this black box, strike the side, of the matchbox

Light the dark, a paradox
Please, Walk into this roadblock

Life socks
Put it on the ground, and let the note walk
So far
Death is due up next, so let the hue alt-

Ternate, bringing feelings back so we can triple date

Recollect the complexions of true affection, now we lessen

True rhymes, leave your eyes bugging like Marty Feldman

(Well then?) my beef is steak, so please alert the mailman

True actions, or impaction, leave you vying for reactions

Don't let your guard down, that's like fighting with satisfaction

Traction
Carry all my Feelings like subtraction

Reactants
Mood is like mixing fire and lithium metal, (Atkins)

[Outro:]
We Need Love

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Songwriter(s): Gregory Nichols

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