Candy Skies

# STRUCTURED CLOUD RAP LYRICS: "PINK SKIES & CONCRETE" (16-BAR EDITS)

### Intro
Ronestar say... ooooh.
I'm stoned (echo x 3)
Pink skies against slate gray,
Kind of cotton candy above.
Like a neon '80s love.
Whose fault is it anyway? Anyway, anyway.

### Verse 1 (16 Bars)
All the demons are trying to scheme,
Build a 24-string machine.
Old 12-TET, just got another neck for the rope,
Rope, rope, while people wander the city with no hope.
I turn to my demon, he says, "Uza! You better get up and run."
Where to? Where to? In every city it's all the same,
Sharp teeth want what you ain't got in the game.
Walking through the alley where the shadow falls,
Echoes bouncing off the brick and concrete walls.
Checking every corner for a ghost from the past,
Moving too slow or running too fast.
Neon flashing through the shatter and dust,
In a broken-down system where nothing is just.
Keeping my focus when the static gets loud,
Ghost in the machine standing out in the crowd.
I'm Ronestar. I'm stoned...

### Pre-Chorus
Some hoe-ass woman asks me, "Do I want love?"
Nah, that bug's been caught, caught, caught.
Don't want someone dragging jungle rot,
Rot, rot, when the whole damn block's forgot.

### Robotic Voice Interlude
*(Distorted, deep automated robotic voice cutting sharply through the mix)*
"Your mama don't twerk and your daddy don't get no boo!"

### Chorus
Pink skies fading to slate,
Dodging the demons and tempting the fate.
Out on the wire where the numbers align,
Same old wine in the Walmart line!
Running the corner, staying elite,
Old Jim Morrison under your feet!

### Verse 2 (16 Bars)
The other day I was thinking about a poem,
You can't be a stranger if you ain't been there first.
And you can't be a friend if your first word is a curse.
You go to Paris and you fall *en tombé*, and that's the worst.
Searching through the memory of a half-forgotten dream,
Nothing ever matches up to how it's gonna seem.
Swimming through the static on a late-night wave,
Digging out a rhythm from an early grave.
Every single street corner tells a different lie,
Watching all the satellites drift through the sky.
Nothing here is sacred when the cash runs low,
Nowhere left to wander and nowhere left to go.
Just another glitch in the framework spun,
Hiding in the shadows from a digital sun.

### Verse 3 (16 Bars)
Trying to get old fat Jim Morrison to move,
Get out of the street, get out of your groove.
Get out from under your feet, move, you ghost,
Floating away from the coast to the coast.
Stuck in the middle of a bad trip rhyme,
Wasting away on a nickel-bag dime.
City lights burning like a fever in the brain,
Washing all the colors down the subway drain.
Hear the sirens wailing in the distance close,
Living on the edge of what hurts the most.
Nothing left to prove to a phantom crowd,
Speaking every truth when the system's bowed.
Pulling up the anchor on a sinking ship,
Making every second of the journey slip.

### Verse 4 (16 Bars)
Hear the same wine all the time from the same chime,
From the same old white guys standing in the Walmart line.
Bubba, you don't play, bubba, you stay,
Shattering patterns and fading away.
Looking at the horizon where the smog rolls in,
Tracing out the circuit where the loops begin.
Never gonna break if you never get bent,
Paying up the price of a life unspent.
Walking down the boulevard of broken code,
Carrying the weight of a heavy-load road.
Man and machine on a collision course,
Riding out the storm with a phantom force.
Nothing else matters when the beat drops flat,
Welcome to the reality of all of that.

### Robotic Voice Interlude
*(Distorted, deep automated robotic voice cutting sharply through the mix)*
"Your mama don't twerk and your daddy don't get no boo!"

### Chorus
Pink skies fading to slate,
Dodging the demons and tempting the fate.
Out on the wire where the numbers align,
Same old wine in the Walmart line!
Running the corner, staying elite,
Old Jim Morrison under your feet!

### Outro
Pink skies...
Slate gray...
Bubba, you don't play.
*(Hard cut to absolute silence)*

### Robotic Voice Interlude
*(Distorted, deep automated robotic voice cutting sharply through the mix)*
"Your mama don't twerk and your daddy don't get no boo!"

Ronestar. 888