(This) city of my angels got flooding
I’m sick with Bronchitis — where the Robitussin
Small calls, an uncle, isn’t that something?
Flow low
Flows go
Known shows
On toe-toes

I got different ways to go
I got an ace-a-spades on cheek bone
Reload, get it-to-grow
She’s gone, she’s gone…
It’s still, ya, — still cold

I can just split it
I can just get it
I can just spit it
Yaa

i got nothin' more to say
i got something else to delay
there's nothin' left to say
i guess i have no choice except to stay
I can go different ways
I’m in a diff-err-ent space (space)
God gimme sum grace
Graphics, for a higher tax bracket
Ask that, fantastic
Magick, magick, magick

I can just split it
I can just get it
I can just spit it
Yaa
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etc. etc. off-dome