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Cloudy
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Cool Calm Pete
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1
Cloudy, Muggy The day's all shitty as hell
2
Fighting Phaenic spells, the citys the real
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Quarter delay at a quarter to six
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I'm sorry lady done stepped on my kicks, voluptuous tricks
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Fucking around, and it sucks to be you,
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But I guess living a lie is a luxury too.
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It probably plain to say that some strange days
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And any-which-way let a man convey it
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Commit to his terms no need for concern,
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From his own mistakes, yeah baby you must learn
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Hand full of tricks, A fist full of motivation,
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Flailing punches, swinging without hesitation
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Snooping around, ain't no buried treasure,
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It's just sunken ships and short-lived pleasures,
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It's the simple things that brick up a foundation,
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like a mound of patience gets you a pound of waiting.
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I'm hating cause there ain't much love in my life,
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it's just drugs, jobs, and a bundle of gripes. (What?)
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Haven't you heard, it's a modern condition,
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A band of glitches, and a mob of bitching.
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A crowd of adversaries, the more the merrier,
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I ain't going down without a fight til' my burial,
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You broke the barrier, and fell off it's spokes,
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Now it's tumbling down and it's waking the folks.
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(Chorus)
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Guess these ailments come along with the territory,
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A better story, now you're telling me what's better for me.
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Mellow shorty, wanna chill with the kin(?) folks.
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Smoke weed and be down with those inside jokes. (haha)
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Bubble(?) of mischief, let's take you to the disco,
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There's talk of the demo, but still no disc, though.
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Provoke Panic, how strange they demand it,
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In a city of millions, how one can feel STRANDED.
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Hand to the heart, now one can feel the tempo,
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One empty bottle and one written-verse memento.
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All in all, Still sorta like a good day,
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One ice cube for this growing pain tooth-ache.
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Baked on a monday, the Misses is still snoring,
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Ignoring the foley, imagination is soaring,
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Designing women with a fat ass like Delta Burke,
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Working girls still find time just to make it work.
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B-B-Back to the drawing board,
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Scribbled her vaguely,
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Jot then a mock, frown, Why the long face, B?
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Neglect is heard, I must have been stabbed or something,
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Blood Curdling, The wound is now settling.
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In stitches, the broken hand counts riches,
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Was it as hard, maybe they broke his spirit,
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Only time will tell, they've just began to hear it.
50
The mic store it, You can't come near it.
Cool Calm Pete - Wishes and Luck
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