Busdriver, Anderson .Paak, Milo - Worlds To Run lyrics

This slack-jaw mealy-mouth
I mumble when I'm 'round the house
I'm trying not to do no chores today
Crying in my underwear
I lost my sense of wonder there
No, I'm not Milan Kundera
Though this lightness is unbearable
The feeling is indelible
I'm wishing I could teleport somewhere
Transmolecularize through the secular eye
I remember when Vegeta stomped
Bardock's neck in
Two prayer hands to the heavens, good Lord
Bless Him i was a broke slob watching
Ghost Dog writing Post Hoc
If I could muster just one good throat chop
And honor my shidoshi
'cause 'dim mak' means 'death touch'
I been Spock, I been clutch
In thin socks, I'm butthurt
Impervious pervert with niggerish fervour
Crashing Linux server
Who didn't even change his laundry over
Who needs to buy toilet paper
Indie rapper, sorta faker
'Cause, I couldn't afford a
Mortgage or a Studebaker
'Cause, I couldn't afford a
Mortgage or a Studebaker

When you're deep in the raw
Everybody wants to get a piece of your heart
There's only so much truth you
Can keep in your vault
Speak your piece, but words are too harsh

(Hold my, hold my, hold my piece, yeah)
Uh, overspoke my piece
Now I'm known in the streets
(I hope I don't break, ayy)
When you're deep in the raw
There's only so much truth you
Can keep in your jaw
So, what you saying? (O oh)
I can run the world from my mama's house
(Ayy, yeah)
I can run the world from my mama's house
I can run the world from my mama's house
I can run the world
When you're deep in the raw (yeah)
There's only so much truth you
Can keep in your jaw
'Til it bleeds through the wall
When you're deep in the raw

Every song responds to a threat
Every laundered dollar is wet
But, I've met moms like a song torn breath
I've met moms that can ponder the depth
And the kings sorta stink of lunacy
My roller rink's in sync with
The jinx that are
Having me sink the moon and the sea
Bankers clink drinks of the uplink
To the sphinx's coonery i'm on the brink
I could fill my sink with the king's jewelry
Yeah, who is he? Driver
Lion from a dead world
Sole practitioner of his customs and know
The RPM of your head twirl
Driver old as fuck
My daughter old enough to vote
Rap songs blowing up on the coast
Loyal subjects rolling up that smoke
As I dictate terms from an ensnarled perch
Yeah, and Leimert Park is Winterfell
But it's ruins i learned to split a cell and
Pitch a sale from Mike's Citadel
Exact an explicit Hell
Empty the fire it's way
My music on Pirate's Bay
As my elusive alliances fray
I collude with a silent clay
And effuse a vibrant day with
A soothing eye in decay
Putting food on the dining tray
Yeah, I can do this my way welcome home

When you're deep in the raw
Everybody wants to get a piece of your heart
There's only so much truth you
Can keep in your vault
Speak your piece, but words are too harsh

When I was a younger man
I could feel the entire world
But now that I'm older

When you're deep in the raw
There's only so much truth you
Can keep in your jaw
So, what you saying? (O oh)
I can run the world from my mama's house
(Ayy, yeah)
I can run the world from my mama's house
I can run the world from my mama's house
I can run the world