Gym Class Heroes - Happy Little Trees lyrics

Now who you know leave the scene
Messier than canvas's by Jackson Pollock
Throwing multicolored thoughts at
A rapid pace i make a mess you dissect it
And make sense of it then get back to me
At your earliest convenience
Check my verbal sequence as
I texturize these tracks
Seven layers to be exact eliminate the whack
With a firm brush stroke I mc paintily
Lyricists begin crumbling from
My scumbling technique
As I tweak your audio and visual
Keep my drips minimal messages subliminal
Cause me and rap go way back we compliment
So together we enhance one
Another that's common sense
High intensity catches the eye your jaw drops
Be a real critic not
Explicit with false props
I keep my darks deep my
Lights bright I'm very thorough
With my churascurro inspiration spark
And a knife now watch me rock the spot
Like? minus the heroin
And make my face popular like
Andy did to Marilyn
Its kinda scary when real
Art gets left behind
While they take bullshit and start
Sellin it to blind folks
But, I remain humble as long
As? continues spinnin hot shit
On his twin twelve hundred
Color wheels of steel
Fk mass appeal art is art only
The real can truly feel it
So open your eyes and listen
Combine your ears with vision
Or do it cause you love it
Or for cash that's your decision
That's your decision that's your decision

Its like I'm torn between two worlds
A paintbrush and a microphone
A canvas or a beat cD or LP
Anything goes when my ink pen flows
And God only knows where it's
Gonna bring me next
So I'm inclined to like paint rhymes and
Spit kaleidoscopes with one eye closed
And I suppose if you chose
The path that I chose
You know the cycle ass ho don't front
It goes inspiration and productivity
Then a sense
Of self worth and in steps depression
Like back and forth and forth and back
Should I paint a picture or record a track
A gift or a curse I
Don't know I'm still undecided
But over the years I've found
Clever ways to hide it
And those that lack the passion
I have may despise it
But my momma made me this
Way I thank her everyday
So tell them kids to keep
Coloring outside the lines
Until they lose they limitations and
They minds is free
Tell them teachers that you want
Your money back this time
And tell Bob Ross for all
The happy little trees
And tell my momma that her baby
Boy is doing just fine
Although hes running out of patience
But his mind is free
And tell my pops that I'll
Pay his money back sometime
And that his son is two steps away
From where he needs to be