Atmosphere - Fleetwood lyrics

There's no winners at
The ass-kissing contest not even the judge
Identify the object
But keep it in your pocket
And try to leave the page before
You start to read the comments
I can't remember when she wasn't
Asking what was wrong i'm not offended
I'm pretending it's just because
Of the songs while I was renderin' my life
Y'all put the shuffle on

It's like I'm standing on the
Corner of Lyndale and Lake
I'm staring at the shit displayed
Behind the windows and gates
Patient waitin' for the bus to
Carry me down the street
I feel like fuck you, January
Got me freezing my feet
Sleeping on the plane, tryna find time travel
Like you high enough to see
Inside of the galaxy's asshole
It follow you and swallow you
Like a black hole

Ayy, I'm not the same dude I used to be
Thankfully permanently angry
Tryna burn your little angel wings
My shit still stinks, nobody's changing me
You tryin' to get dough
I'm tryin' to take over a bakery
You kinda look like the type
That might book flights
When faced with adversity, the
First to be like, "Good night"
Took a long pull, hype

I been around the world and III
I can't find a sweet spot
To squat and die-ie-ie
Y'all be talking hella shit
I guess I probably would as well
I walk like an elephant, shook the bell
You took the L and
Flipped it upside down like a crutch, yo
Let go of my tusk before the mountain erupts
And everybody's like, "What? We ain't
Know it's a volcano, fuck"

Fuck