Lyrics
I wrote "L.I.T.P.M." on my hand with your ink pen
You asked me what it is, I find out with an ellipsis
I was humming, "I've been set free," swerving through security like a ceramic donkey in an inner rant
Wearing filthy once-white terrace pants with a broken floor tom, it's such a luxury
They might bust my lady but they'll never get me
They might bust my lady but they'll never get me
What are we good for if we can't make it?
What are we good for if we can't make it, make it?
What are we good for if we can't make it?
What are we good for if we can't make it, make it?
Make it, make it
Make it, make it
You can't control the system, can't control my mind
You can't control me, you can't control me
