Nostalgious-Christon Gray/Taelor Gray/B. Reith

The layaway flow Lot of things been on hold I've been paying for something he gave away, though Guess I feel obligated Probably since the day i came home Don't make a lot of sense The problem is I'm day to day low on change Say it ain't so Probably spent a lot of days on condemnation I paper plate fold Moping, I'm motivated that will make me change clothes I'm Django, I feel like a slave so I'm cautious To say no but in the same note I'm bossin' I stay broke but on the same note I'm flossin' Knowin good and well I'm outta my range so I'm falsin' Falsetto vibrato, I lost it Singin I am a god, but this ain't livin' If you just buying Lebrons, and this ain't winning If you just trying for bronze medallions I used to keep my eye on the prize Nostalgia My oh my, my blue eyes telling me A story I describe as a true crime felony The cruel world through the pupils of a school girl I'm doing my best not to let it take form To my surprise I'm nothing more than a pedigree Working like a dog to keep the dogs off my door But every dog has its day so I'm torn Between home or the tour, rose or the thorns I'm doin' my best not to let it take form Me and my angels, triangle is the norm But I'm caught up in the circle, spinning wheels till I'm worn Push 'em to the edge, edges look worn So I'm kneeling at my bed till my circle transform To an octagon red, still I ignore Back to the circles, now I'm back in the storm Blue grey eyes, gotta Skype her in the mornin Night-night to Mya, to mommy its the norm The honeymoon is gone, back to the swarm I'm making more money but honey ain't impressed Cause she know about the stress and she knows about the porn I can feel the disconnect, I can feel it even more I'm trynna take a breath, but there's nothing like a scorn I'm feeling so withered, ain't no sunshine when she's gone I gotta go get it The circle's your rock ladawn Yo, this is King meets Calvin Cold blooded, 100 below kelvin This nostalgia harder to read than Melville On the same tide and we rolling like Yeldon I drop anchor, vibing to Ben Tankard All of this advertising, mind of a Don Draper Gold rush in the tomb with the finer things Meeting women on the fly, grew some designer wings Ribbon in the sky, how cruel is the irony I may never see it on my stool in the winery Was in the swimming pools calling it the liver pool red-eye Used to rock forces like a Jedi Turn Puma turn lunar and eclipsed Did the son preach my funeral the universe's expense None rich and journey big up in the system Elevation is forever, indwelling is the sixth sense At times I tend to lose focus Should I scratch lines to render men hopeless Or flat line my own dreams of show biz so His love can shine through this opus I remember that moment like yesterday Your smile came through the cloud Nothing else mattered more in than that moment when you called me out of the ground