Lyrics Travis Thompson – Infatuated
Text:
It’s the season of the peasant, sneaking into Heaven
Creeping with my heathens, we do thievery in sevens
Got my demons on my guest list, Jesus on my necklace
I’ve been steaming on the roof, it smell like seasonal depression
Why the preacher need a lesson, I ain’t never listen
I was in-and-out, indifference — trying to find a pot to piss in
‘Cause the one my Pops provided ain’t have the proper glisten
And it’s something ’bout the easy targets make me wanna lick ’em
I’m a problem child, draped in my Ecko polo and poppin’ mad
Twistin’ weed up, watching World Star beheadings, and clappin’ loud
Off it round, a simple-minded, broke, and hopeless — pray they pass
Kids like me, we find a bitch in ourselves and we fade they ass
Way, way back
Apple pies were aiming flames at paper stack
Sippin’ on my Maker’s Mark and trends incentives fade to black
They catch a glimpse of the moment you lose your sense of self
So if I go, you ain’t see shit
And, if I run, don’t send for help
I guess I’m still
Infatuated with death (death is nothing at all)
It’s safe to say that it’s never safe in my head
I’m infatuated with death (I only slip away into the next room)
I know I shouldn’t, but it feels so good
Infatuated with yes (nothing has happened)
Let it prowl for a while ’til it all fall down
Infatuated with stress (everything remains exactly)
I’m infatuated with death
Yeah, ayy
At my service, told the pastor, «post an open casket»
Throw it up on Craigslist, make it open to the masses
Lying through my baby teeth
Project my future for some momma
Too many — hit play, repeat
A legend on the boulevard
Grew up with a gully squad
Kids who know exactly where they older brother’s bullets are
I musta been like 9 or something
‘Round the school we heard the news
Curiosity got ’em, the last we ever heard from you
That’s fucked up, ain’t it?
Now they «lunch-rush» famous
Now they fake-tell moments for kids who don’t know better
No, I don’t hold vendettas against the reaper — we chill
My daddy pump-fake that motherfucker, then make us a meal
So, that’s just regular shit
No time to wrestle with this
My family pull up like, «where the drinks and the settlements is?»
I see the men I’m surrounded by, I’m no better than them
Like, why I want these bitches to like me at every event
When I got wifey at home
Something not right in my dome
I’m insecure and new pussy just be enticing alone
I came to grips with myself, and then I lost peace where it mattered
I’m too concerned with the ending, how they’ll remember me after
I’ll be forever
Infatuated with death (death is nothing at all)
It’s safe to say that it’s never safe in my head
I’m infatuated with death (I only slip away into the next room)
I know I shouldn’t, but it feels so good
Infatuated, we’re yes (nothing has happened)
Let it prowl for a while ’til it all fall down
Infatuated with stress (everything remains exactly)
I’m infatuated with death
Yeah, ayy
All is well
Nothing is hurt, nothing is lost
One brief moment and all will be as it was before
How we shall laugh at the trouble of parting
When we meet again
