Shiny Suit Theory Lyrics - Singles - Jay Electronica

I'm sailing on a cloud they trailing below 

My shrink told me it's a feeling they don't ever know 

I pack up all my sins and I wear them to the show 

And let 'em go, let 'em go, let 'em go, let 'em go 

I'm sailing on a cloud they trailing below 

My shrink told me it's a feeling they don't ever know 

I pack up all my sins in every L that I blow 

And let 'em go, let 'em go, let 'em go, let 'em go 

In the land before time 

A land before altar boys, synagogues and shrines 

Man was in his prime 

Look how far I go in time just to start a rhyme 

The method is sublime you get blessed with every line 

I'm in touch with every shrine from Japan to Oaxaca 

The melanated carbon-dated phantom of the chakras 

Me and Puff, we was chilling in Miami 

He said: "Nigga fuck the underground you need to win a Grammy 

For your mama and your family 

They need to see you shined up 

You built a mighty high ladder, let me see you climb up 

Nigga what you scared of? 

Terrorize these artificial rap niggas and spread love 

Pollenate they ear buds 

Like you supposed to, spit it for the culture 

Pay no attention to the critics and the vultures 

They rather have a shot of Belvy just to spite you 

They casting judgments cause they feel they got the right to 

Fuck them! I let the dice roll like the father did 

I gotta shine it's in my blood I'm a Harlem kid 

I treat my babies right, treat my ladies ladylike 

Hit them with a remix to make sure that they play me twice 

I thought you said it's the return of the black kings 

Luxurious homes, fur coats and fat chains" 

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In this manila envelope the results of my insanity 

Quack said I crossed the line between real life and fantasy 

Can it be the same one on covers with Warren Buffett 

Was ducking the undercovers, was warring with motherfuckers? 

Went from warring to Warren, undercovers to covers 

If you believe in that sort of luck your screws need adjusting 

In the world of no justice and black ladies on the back of buses 

I'm the immaculate conception of rappers-slash-hustlers 

My God it's so hard to conceive 

But it all falls perfect I'm like autumn is to trees 

The doc interrupted, he scribbled a prescription for some Prozac 

He said: "take that for your mustard, boy 

You must be off your rocker 

If you think you'll make it off the strip before they 'Pac ya 

Nigga you gotta be psychotic 

Or mixing something potent with your vodka 

It takes a lot to shock us 

But you being so prosperous is preposterous 

How could this nappy headed boy from out the projects 

Be the apple of America's obsession? 

You totally disconnected with reality 

Don't believe in dreams 

Since when did black men become kings" 

Photos 

You have no idea, yeah 

The means to what I say 

And you have no idea 

Of how I got this way 

Now, fear my dreams 

And by the time you wake 

I'll look down from the clouds 

See, I'm on my way