[Verse 1: Looms.]
It's a bittersweet shimmy
Still keep the missing piece with me
Still weave tapestries
Still seek sanity in some who lack
Exactly in their eyes
Still bound to the ballast
With doubt for counterbalance
How we found the sound astounds him still
Remember way back
Raps had him named and
Shamed in forgotten common rooms
He lost a lot of loot
Got him plotting on the move
His bros outside
They hollered for the scoop
Still tryna dodge a coupe truths
Like the right to profit off a truth
Not for you see
Looms ain't tryin to be a column on the news
Still learning that
Mates ain't mates
And he still find some of them close
And yeah he still bites tongues at the toasts
Still finds love in the lows
Still lighting somethin to grow
Oh no this ain't know home I know
Ima go home
But I don't know though
[Verse 2: Atlas]
Still I
Scribble sonnets subtle solipsistic sins
Bittersweet shimmies to the songs of bitter ends
Still huddle under secrecy and bottles of the gin
Under thunderstorms rubble formed the promises within
Whittle somber aphorisms from an alabaster stone
Calligrapher woes, alley-cat verbose
Still singing songs of hope in the trying times
Still mutter diatribes
Still garble symptoms of a tired mind
My oh my
In the morning when companionship dissolves
We'll still be dancing in the halls
Still asunder in the summer months
Lovers punch drunk from each other's trust and
Not panicking at all or
Barely panicking at all
That silly silhouette
Stammer through a nom de plume
Vanish in a crowded room and
Panic over howdy-doo's
The prophetic verbosity turned to pathetic rhetoric
And I'm still finding faults in the level's mix
I'll let it sit soon
I'll let it sit soon