Pick Me Up by The PaK Lyrics
[Verse 1: Ginger-Vitus]
Paint pictures with my mind
Real rappers know the kind
I keep my eyes low and rhyme
Things will be good in time
Do dimes
But don't do well with change
I've had visions of whippin' around a Range
Criss cross genres, you could say I'm switching lanes
I'm like a lion in this game, king in this jungle
Make them hard hits, but I never fumble
My vision is tunnel, but I can't see the end
Some beats and some lyrics, its a simple plan
I've been writing since I held a crayon
But I ain't with that child shit
I smoke and chill on some Black & Mild shit
Going far in this game no matter the mileage
Get this money and pile it
[Verse 2: Luke Flywalker]
Want my pockets filled with paper
I ain't with the sick behavior
Fuck with me and minutes later
Eat you like vanilla wafers
Bros are faded, hittin' vapors
Brain's more like a calculator
My success is probably why you haters slit your wrists with razors
Mind your manners daily planner filled with missing answers
Chillin' low key like the brother of Thor, I'm throwing hammers
You wanna see my dick you need a panoramic camera
Send you back to Alabama where you're sippin' Fanta
Hunting down the beats so fiercely
Getting all these bucks in Vermont, I call it deer meat
All star in the game, and you just cheer lead
Tell ya'll what's up like 'Hear Ye, Hear Ye'
Hear me, It's hard from way up here, we high off jet fuel
Now my eyes look more Asian than a med-school
Rap delirious, why so serious
Fly as Pterodactyls back in the jurassic period
Never miss a beat
People think I'm trickin' till I'm at their house, trick-or-treat
Lyrical acid, here's a sheet
I'm high off life, and drunk off her love
This rap shit's like coffee, always picking me up
Paint pictures with my mind
Real rappers know the kind
I keep my eyes low and rhyme
Things will be good in time
Do dimes
But don't do well with change
I've had visions of whippin' around a Range
Criss cross genres, you could say I'm switching lanes
I'm like a lion in this game, king in this jungle
Make them hard hits, but I never fumble
My vision is tunnel, but I can't see the end
Some beats and some lyrics, its a simple plan
I've been writing since I held a crayon
But I ain't with that child shit
I smoke and chill on some Black & Mild shit
Going far in this game no matter the mileage
Get this money and pile it
[Verse 2: Luke Flywalker]
Want my pockets filled with paper
I ain't with the sick behavior
Fuck with me and minutes later
Eat you like vanilla wafers
Bros are faded, hittin' vapors
Brain's more like a calculator
My success is probably why you haters slit your wrists with razors
Mind your manners daily planner filled with missing answers
Chillin' low key like the brother of Thor, I'm throwing hammers
You wanna see my dick you need a panoramic camera
Send you back to Alabama where you're sippin' Fanta
Hunting down the beats so fiercely
Getting all these bucks in Vermont, I call it deer meat
All star in the game, and you just cheer lead
Tell ya'll what's up like 'Hear Ye, Hear Ye'
Hear me, It's hard from way up here, we high off jet fuel
Now my eyes look more Asian than a med-school
Rap delirious, why so serious
Fly as Pterodactyls back in the jurassic period
Never miss a beat
People think I'm trickin' till I'm at their house, trick-or-treat
Lyrical acid, here's a sheet
I'm high off life, and drunk off her love
This rap shit's like coffee, always picking me up