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lirik lagu cali$to - where to go? (intro)

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“please state your name”
“cal. calvin deangelo”
“will i become a hit and run victim on the information super highway? uh uh!”
“date of birth”
“august 24th, 2000”
“they never talk about the damage it’s gonna do to you physically and mentally”
“where are you?”
“huh?”
“where are you? where do you want to be?”
“try this first iced tea. meh. now try this one. yeahhh”
“where do you want to be?”
“i wanna be alone. i just wanna go home.”

through the storm of the sunrays, sand blasted vv’s on my chest shine
lil’ nicotine, lil’ liquor in my systеm. since a jit i rode around the rеd line

all the women filled with villainy, i been through it, whether thick or thin
switch my wrist out with the glitz, i’m sippin’ merlot bl~~dy but ain’t no tick in it
i been searching, trekking in my arc
sip of chromium, it’s racing in my heart
ricky full of gravel tripping on my travels
still i really~ i don’t know the motion of the sand

never needed anybody, any body did fine for the time then
seven digits representing all the women
skipping hitting up my line then
had the night of when we met been a little longer, you’d have ended my pain
wood waving round the stock
be the final bullet itching at the migraine (yuh)
hold up baby, where the h~ll we going?
what’s the motion?
whiff up cookies as i crumble off like the sandman
mix it up and whip a brewski out before the potion
baby if the gods allowed it, they’d have let my love stay. let my love stay

all the women filled with villainy, i been through it, whether thick or thin
switch my wrist out with the glitz, i’m sippin’ merlot bl~~dy but ain’t no tick in it
i been searching, trekking in my arc
sip of chromium, it’s racing in my heart
ricky full of gravel tripping on my travels
still i really~ i don’t know the motion of the sand

never needed anybody, any body did fine for the time then
seven digits representing all the women
skipping hitting up my line then
had the night of when we met been a little longer, you’d have ended my pain
wood waving round the stock
be the final bullet itching at the migraine (yuh)
never needed anybody, any body did fine for the time then
seven digits representing all the women
skipping hitting up my line then
had the night of when we met been a little longer, you’d have ended my pain
wood waving round the stock
be the final bullet itching at the migraine (yuh)


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