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Lyrics

Hey you, are you sleepin' in the woods?
Hey you, are you sleepin' like you should?
Are we pandas on camels or birds in a flock?
Are we caricatures, are we cream of the crop?

Started at the bottom of the page
Skipped right to the ending for a glimpse of your fate
Do you get the better of the fame?
Or do you let it shatter over bonds that you've made?
You love that staff, I get that wack, my ass bamboo
I see the zebra f-f-flustered in the zoo
You go from green to red and mean, then down to blue
We're on the tenth, is it the end or chapter two?

Lyrics continue below...

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Hoping
When it feels like you've been chosen
You keep your ego from exploding
Check yourself and you'll be rolling on

No sleep, I feel dead
Blend me in the wall, merge with bed
The mind is mush and I'm leaping out the back of my head
When my own critique is all I've read

Give it some time, you may be sellin' out somebody
Stick to your guns and never sell out 'cause you want it
When it gets heavy, you can bail out, regather
Take a beat and come back steadier than ever
They'll only know you by your disguise
Don't have to show them every single side
Make it so you won't need an alibi
When the pitchfork comes out, you'll be alright

Hey you, are you sleepin' in the woods?
Hey you, are you sleepin' like you should?
Are we pandas on camels or birds in a flock?
Are we caricatures? Are we cream of the crop?

Hey you, are you sleepin' in the woods?
Hey you, are you sleepin' like you should?
Are we pandas on camels or birds in a flock?
Are we caricatures? Are we cream of the crop?

Hoping
When it feels like you've been chosen
You keep your ego from exploding
Check yourself and you'll be rolling on

Don't sell yourself short, this is your moment
They'll only know you by your disguise
Don't have to show them every single side
Make it so you don't need an alibi
Give it some time, you may be selling out somebody
Stick to your guns and never sell out 'cause you want it so bad
It's heavy, bail out, regather
Take a beat and come back steadier than ever

Big bangers, swang thangers, go to shows
Straight bops, don't rot, you should know
Big bangers, swang thangers, go to shows
Straight bops, all I got, you should know

Writer(s): Matthew James Mingus, William Swan, Jonathan David Mess, Timothy Thomas Feerick, Tilian Pearson, Nicholas Marsh

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