Chips+Pop from Chips+Pop by Mikey Maybe
Tracklist
| 4. | Chips+Pop | 1:19 |
Lyrics
My style is:
A cadilac-black DS, with a lilac-purple stylus
Like diamonds, my eyes fixed on my wireless
circuit-bent, glitched-up, you can't buy this.
My 8 bits get makeshift payslips,
greatness scribbled in my margins
My lungs lined with sunshine, blowing in a cartridge
My blood type ain't right, sick of all these starches.
You've been to my appartment. Had to see
that I've got more chips+pop than Commander Keen.
Think my grass is green, like some plasticine?
Don't ever scratch my screen because the glass is clean.
I know this game like the back of my speakers.
I plug 'em in blind while I'm packing those bleachers
Nose-bleeders. Mikey just sold t-shirts.
Brand new drivers. Brand old sneakers.
A slip stream, pit fiend, vigilante.
With those crisp, clean, ripped jeans in the laundry.
I got drum pads, dumb cats, sticky notes, thumb tacks,
and gear in my bedroom drippin' like a gun rack.
It's drippin', It's drippin'.....
