Pink Matter

And the peaches and the mangos that you could sell for me

What do you think my brain is made for

Is it just a container for the mind

This great great matter

Sensei replied what is your woman

Is she just a container for the child

That soft pink matter

Cotton candy Majin Buu

Close my eyes and fall into you

My god she's giving me pleasure

What if the sky and the stars are for show

And the aliens are watching live

From the purple matter

Sensei went quiet then violent

And we sparred until we both grew tired

Nothing mattered

Cotton candy Majin Buu

Dim the lights and fall into you, you, you

My god, giving me pleasure

Pleasure, pleasure, pleasure

Pleasure over matter

Since you been gone

I been having withdrawals

You were such a habit to call

I ain't myself at all had to tell myself naw

She's better with some fella with a regular job

I didn't wanna get her involved

By dinner Mr. Benjamin was sittin in awe

Hops into my car drove far

Far's too close and I remember

My memories no sharp

Butter knife what a life anyway

I'm building y'all a clock stop

What am I Hemingway

She had the kind of body

That would probably intimidate

Any of 'em that were un-southern

Not me cousin

If models are made for modeling

Thick girls are made for cuddlin'

Switch worlds and we can huddle then

Who needs another friend

I need to hold your hand

You'd need no other man

We'd flee to other lands

Grey matter

Blue used to be my favorite color

Now I ain't got no choice

Blue matter

You're good at being bad

You're bad at being good

For heaven sakes go to hell

Knock, knock on wood, hey

You're good at being bad

You're bad at being good

For heaven sakes go to hell

Knock on wood

Well frankly when that Ocean so muphuckin good

Make her swab the muthafuckin wood

Make her walk the muthafuckin plank

Make her rob a muthafuckin bank

With no mask on and a rusty revolver