I’m feelin’ like I’m Tom Thibodeau
Create the culture, they just dribble more
They hate the vultures ’til they is one though
They givin’ flowers, those different roses
Put the pain in the pot, let it stir, let it brew
Let ’em eat, let ’em take from the language of you
They don’t care bout a walk in a pair of your shoes
All they want to despair, they don’t care if it’s true
I found a life all in the sentences
They drownin’ lives all with the sentencing
I write mine down, recite with instruments
They strike guys down and make them instruments of corporations makin’ dividends
I earn for Spotify through Distrokid
They all commodify through prisonses
Quite a difference just a sentence gives
What system is you in?
I gotta ask you, who you make the bread for? How they bouta tax you?
Who they gon’ cancel? Who they lob a pass to?
Claimin’ they blessed, now somebody gotta at you
Who are these haters of which you speak, dog? Somebody gotta at you
Far as I can see it, we just pick a narrative and act casual
Boy your sentence might change, that ain’t nothin but some punctuation
Couple rolls of the dice, that just come from waitin’
You look around like “Man, ain’t no others changin'”
Not me, I like to cook when no oven’s bakin’
That way I always smell what the f#ck I’m makin’
They lookin’ for an image just to run adjacent
Say you livin’ in his image then I guess he ain’t sh#t
Put more goals on ice then the Gretzky blaze did
Ain’t you tired of waitin’?
I’m feelin’ like I’m Tom Thibodeau
Create the culture, they just dribble more
They hate the vultures ’til they is one though
They givin’ flowers, those different roses
Put the pain in the pot, let it stir, let it brew
Let ’em eat, let ’em take from the language of you
They don’t care ’bout a walk in a pair of your shoes
All they want to despair, they don’t care if it’s true
Coach of the year, the team is me
The coast is clear to be what I dream to be
Emotions near, but all that mean to me is that a motion’s near
I got a movement startin’
Don’t approach or cheer
Don’t gotta prove to y’all sh#t
Got a new apartment
Got a fuse to spark with
I elope with fear
We don’t care who in charge if they don’t want the dark sh#t
Can’t have my heart then
Run these knees to the ground, Tom Thibs, Tom Thibs
I don’t want these cheap lil pounds, f#ck who y’all is, y’all is
I be in season year-round, can I live? I live?
An ironic freeness I’ve found, I’m locked in, locked in
And I’m feelin’ like I’m Tom Thibodeau
Create the culture, they just dribble more
They hate the vultures ’til they is one though
They givin’ flowers, those different roses
Put the pain in the pot, let it stir, let it brew, let ’em eat
Let ’em take from the language of you
They don’t care ’bout a walk in a pair of your shoes
All they want to despair, they don’t care if it’s true
Find more lyrics at westlyrics.com
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