Backseat Driver | Plainspoke
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Backseat Driver

This was early 2015. I was living with my parents, saving up to move to Colorado, writing and creating instrumentals late at night, and recording in the backseat of my car in state parks and cemeteries. No one bothers you in cemeteries.

So Little is the most mature track on the album, and one of my favorite older songs to this day.

Backseat Driver
  1. Sneak Up On You (Barbershop) - 2:53
  2. Coming Around - 3:07
  3. You Are Listening to Backseat Driver - 4:01
  4. Won't Let Die - 3:40
  5. So Little - 3:12
  6. The Buses Were Empty - 2:36

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Coming Around

Coming around, spitting it out, making it sound heavy 
Live in the now, fearing the doubt, cuz they’re out to get me 
Gimme an ounce, gimme a pound, gimme a wound that’s flesh deep 
I’m coming around, spitting it out, making it sound heavy 

Fee-fi, I sit next 
To Levi, his thick head 
Don’t realize I be next 
Me, I 
Gonna fire myself, feed the rejects 
Then eject to the east-west 
For a little while while I reset 
I read text 
as it flies by my window let it be said 
I’d be dead if it weren’t for the work of the beat gen 
If it weren’t for the worst of reasons 
I feast in this beating 
The beats give me feeling 
Meaning I don’t mind, 
but I’m reading the fault lines 
You’re feeding, I’m eating 
My plain clothes are cheap 
And my plainspoken speech 
Has been given reprieve 

I sleep in a room with Miss Bo Peep 
I sleep in a room but get no sleep 
I sleep in a room, its Gitmo sleep 
I get mo’ sleep with my eyes awake 

Listen to the bible, they 
be idols on their idle days 
He buys a lock and locks away 
the Visine bottles he buys of late 

He buys the lotto and wine, while we wait 
for the numbers to come and put food on our plates 
when the numbers do come we buy booze at the bank 
Ruin our name with a room at the clank 

Who will wait for the gloom in the tank 
To liven the spirits of those losing their length 
I have a serum, you have a truth 
If I speak it in the booth who do you thank 

What is innate and what do we waste 
how do we pay for the things that we take 
how do we date, when time’s a fake 
bottle the days and bury them deep 

watch the light and count the sheep 
as he walks by, sound asleep 
mouthing to the morning, these 
fountain-tipped, founded this 

sit at the corner of here and meek 
timid, I be idled with my mind two steps ahead of I don’t 
buy those / excuses, I’m an idol of the useless 
my time is spent, let’s use it 
get high on the feeling that you only need a two-bit 
thinking that I’m truest, but lying through and through and 
flying like I’m tuned to the beat that I’m producing 
you ever think that everything is bullshit?

Won’t Let Die

no sleep, count sheep, been counting all week 
rap in the car because I get no peace 
slap together bars like I’m up to be a lawyer (jeez) 
study hard, get a house, just a room with a boiler (cheap) 

steady count, I’m down to the wire, 
finders fees for these arsonist fires 
If I had a dream and you had a lighter, 
we’d be the team that’d set those fires 

(you’re fired) 

so sit in the dark as i sit in this car 
with a bitch outside, I don’t like it’s bark 
don’t like these bars, but i rap ‘em the same 
as dollars add up from my pockets of change 

from scholars at large to ekin and arc’ 
I’m coming apart, asleep in the park 
Eating the gar-bage, diving in like I’m marvin starving 
Repeat and restarting 

See these people round me, 
Even when I’m drowning 
Deep inside 
There’s just something bout these 
Beats, beats, beats 
I won’t let die 

I sleep, but when I dream it’s all the same 
took my name, plainspoke, and made it all about the plain 
then I crashed it, coming up for air, bear and grin the basket 
fasting but can’t crack the habit, listen to my body and it’s saying I’m addict 

let’s add it, this disbelief / when I believe my teeth are cracking 
If it’s disease / I’m relieved / otherwise I’ll leave here packing for relief 
turned a comic when you feeling like the leaf 
Asked if I could frolic, made a promise I’d believe 

you disagree, but underneath you wonder if I see 
put into a slumber, sleeping beauty or would be 
it’s acting, reacting to the fact of the degree 
that I’m slacking, you laughing like I’m dragging my feet 

but I feed, supersede the rhymes, 
get a bead of sweat when I read at times 
when I be in bed, with the deed in my head, we digress can i plead for death 

See these people round me, 
Even when I’m drowning 
Deep inside 
There’s just something bout these 
Beats, beats, beats 
I won’t let die

So Little

I’m exhausted, forgetful, there’s no time for sleep 
Hoping that I live slow, or burn out on the beats 
For just some peace when i leave though, because hope is honesty, 
a sieve through the limbo, be the broker on your knees 

Feel the boulder, see the void that opens up between your feet, 
and feel older, old enough to open up to your beliefs 
Or be the loner, bundled up or bold enough to feel the heat 
and seal it over, when you’re green there’s still something to believe 

And when I’m lost I miss those thoughts from the deep end 
What’s the cost of a nickel but a dime on which you depend 
Toss and turn when I sleep but I find there’s no time to reason 
Boss of the path that’s beat I walk for my own reasons 
Cough and grieve, but I won’t walk off until I eat them, off until I meet them in the bog where my dreams end 
The log, it talks, but it won’t for long when I am healing, when I’m Leland on the floor, revealing I have deepened 

I sleep in a room 
I walk in the middle 
I do what people do 
Talk like I’m civil 
I believe that its the truth 
When I believe in so little 
I believe in so little 
I believe it so x2 

I walk around where the sparks are mirages 
And the hearts of the town live in two car garages 
Where I’m up and I’m down, and the wheel’s upon us 
Don’t fuck with it now, because I’m feeling it honest 
Got my hands in the ground, touch the tree of Nirvana 
Find my place in the sound, like the face of Madonna 
I’ve been chasing my doubt, I’ve been trailing the comets 
I feel safe right now because the world’s neurotic 
Turn a page, rip it out and drop these rhymes methodic 
Turn your face to my mouth, another pale white object 

I say I misplaced my house, can I come home with you to rob it 
Got a problem, I can’t tell, I said that I would make a profit 
Riding shotguns into hell, God knows I won’t stop it 
Because God won’t hold me down, I’m only in it for the prophets 
Only living for the projects, finish and I’m garbage 
Got a harbinger of garnish, and if I’m honest I don’t want it