[Hook: Anderson .Paak]
I can see the ugly portraits painted in nightosphere
But I was not an art major so I stay silent out of fear
Those brush strokes, so messy
There must be some way out of here
Those expressionistic paintings, they paint me in my nightmares
I opened up my third eye for an entire light year
I live wrong, you dead right
I've never been on that website with the Pitchfork, I'm dead, right?
I'm dead, right?
I'm dead, right?

[Verse: milo]
In California on tour I happened to lose my soul patch
Among those with ornate bobbles on their snapbacks
Passwords were spoken, talismans and tokens
Grip handsigns in motion, battlements were broken
I scream Hellfyre until my lungs collapse in their own poison
It's risky business, you're picking a fight with Ricky Fitness
Now I've found my courage to walk up in those dark places
Now I've found my courage to talk to those with shark faces
I've known the buzz of anxieties
Bury me in rap money only to watch me practice piety
I don't worship crystals and I don't dabble in secret societies
With hidden lords and Ouija boards
I used to get paid to squeegee floors
How dare you ask for more
At the intersection of task and bore
Where better is the enemy of
And I swear to God I'm good enough
And I swear to God I'm good enough
And I swear to God I'm good enough
[Hook: Anderson .Paak]
I can see the ugly portraits painted in nightosphere
But I was not an art major so I stay silent out of fear
Those brush strokes, so messy
There must be some way out of here
Those expressionistic paintings, they paint me in my nightmares
I opened up my third eye for an entire light year
I live wrong, you dead right
I've never been on that website with the Pitchfork, I'm dead, right?
I'm dead, right?
I'm dead, right?

[Bridge: milo]
You don't need to run away
You don't need to run away
You don't need to run away
You don't need to run away
You don't need to run away
You don't need to run away
You don't need to run away
You don't need to run away

[Hook: Anderson .Paak]
I can see the ugly portraits painted in nightosphere
But I was not an art major so I stay silent out of fear
Those brush strokes, so messy
There must be some way out of here
Those expressionistic paintings, they paint me in my nightmares
I opened up my third eye for an entire light year
I live wrong, you dead right
I've never been on that website with the Pitchfork, I'm dead, right?
I'm dead, right?
I'm dead, right?