[Intro]
Here we go
Put your, uh
Put your hands in your pants and rap along
Rap along

Hi, God
Hi, Hi, Hi, Hi, Hi, Hi
Hi, God, it's me again

[Verse 1: Doctur Dot]
Hi, God, it's me again
Sometimes it seems like you don't even miss our conversations at all
And it's nobody's fault, but it'd be nice if you called
Check and see on how I'm doing, or whatever, dude
Lotta n***as never play and brag on how they never lose
Confused, in the middle of the desert, petals underneath my shoes, the oasis is my city
In the land of who's who's and who's not so much
And who's got more bucks
Oh, that's cute, y'all still slice your wrists horizontal
You must miss your momma
You must miss the social worker asking bout' your problems
I was on that boat last autumn in a clinic full of childhood fathers
“Oh no, no, no, he's a murder" like Gucci
And that fetus still haunts my dreams
And the demons in my skull still refuse to scream
And, honestly, the whisper's way much worse for me
What's the point of being sick when everybody's doing shots?
What's the point in being quick when don't nobody carry clocks?
Every time I show my dick another slut is very shocked
Eskimo brothers with J.I.D thanks to Suzy's rotten crotch
Deposit cough drops in the esophagus of all the bitches
And afterwards we call it quits, uh, I got a main
Shrooms every afternoon and I ain't got a stain
Immortality is yours when you fall in love with pain
[?]
[Chorus]
And all this for some hardwood floors
And for some matching Jett Jackson doors
And I be so obtuse in these hoes
I got that God juice leaking out my pores
Leaking out my pores
For some hardwood floors
And matching famous Jett Jackson doors
And I be obtuse all up in them hoes
I got that God juice leaking out my pores
Leaking out my pores

[Verse 2: Johnny Venus]
Paranoia growing on me like sequoias
A one way ticket
I'm people watching
The pocket man [?]
A little needle nostalgia
But all seeing, all things considered, all being
Bless your heart baby, you've been out here all evening, let me pour your
Sorrows up, take them clothes off for cleaning
But I'ma show you how it go
And I'ma turn you to a man, you so managed though
It's prolly cause I'm from the land of soul children and cold victims
And old folks yelling “No, no, let me go mister"
So we breaking the mold
The new story, your bitch bed, posted through two stories, I be doing the most
You know if it ain't enough [?]
That shit ain't enough taxing and
They don't really give a fuck
Just keep it on, that'll end
And if you think that's cold then you in for a battle, man
I'd really like to know how you keep it all shackled in
I'm sure a little bottle poppin'
Little weekend model toppin'
Let's get nasty, let's get off, or roll a joint
All seem to suffice
Until that next checkpoint
And you're Mario Kartin'
And you're falling apart
And like “Aw, damage them lights"
And then you feel like some mice
Can't make a left nor a right
Oh, this one hell of a night
And then the split second pondering your purpose in life
Pockets done swole up like rice
I had to get so enlightened
[Chorus]
All this for some hardwood floors
And for some matching Jett Jackson doors
And I be so obtuse in these hoes
I got that God juice leaking out my pores
Leaking out my pores
For some hardwood floors
And matching famous Jett Jackson doors
And I be obtuse all up in them hoes
I got that God juice leaking out my pores
Leaking out my pores