Flow Automatic

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Flow Automatic lyrics

Artist-supplied lyric sheet, matched by title. The sheet may differ from this released performance. Production notes and alternate promotional cuts are omitted.

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Intro

Turn signal doing the count-in. tap... tap... sheesh. Thirty minutes on the dash.

Verse 1

I left Biscayne baked, late, with my jaw in a vice, Palmetto plate-glass, brake flash, everybody nice till the horn gets holy, old lane turns court, SUV sermon, one hand out the port. Coffee cup kick drum, thumb on the console, bumper-to-bumper hum got my thoughts in a chokehold. Eight thirty-six sighing, 95 don't blink, 305 heat got the steering wheel pink. I was wasting my watch, then the watch started watching, every tick-tock knock turned a knock into options. Said I ain't trapped, I'm tracked by my girl bro, red light choir in the rearview, let it groan.

Pre-chorus

Turn signal click-click, finger on plastic, anger in park but the rhythm got traction. One breath, one bar, let the lane hold static

Chorus

Stuck in traffic, Flow Automatic tap-tap-tap, this shit manic I was mad, put the dash in a panic go, go, go Brake lights blooming like a red Atlantic tap-tap-tap, this shit static If the road don't move, I make magic go, go, go

Verse 2

Thirty on the dash, now the thought spiral widens, 954 sun going copper on the visors. Man in the next lane mouthing "come on, bro," I read every syllable through factory tint, though. My phone says twelve more; my nerves say never, I tap out a pattern with the nick in the leather. Left knee kick, ring-finger hat, seatbelt snare, little laugh in the gap. The whole car small but the whole world fits: rent, regrets, red lights, voice memos, missed trips. Then the green cracks open by the exit sign, I don't lose thirty, thirty learned to rhyme.

Pre-chorus

Turn signal click-click, finger on plastic, anger in park but the rhythm got traction. One breath, one bar, let the lane hold static

Chorus

Bridge

No drums for a second, just the blinker and breath, I forgive one horn, then I pocket the rest. Exit sign shining like permission to leave, but I keep the beat going with my palm on my sleeve.

Chorus

Stuck in traffic, Flow Automatic tap-tap-tap, this shit manic I was mad, put the dash in a panic go, go, go Brake lights blooming like a red Atlantic tap-tap-tap, this shit static When the road finally moves, the shit feels like magic home, home, home

Outro

Thirty on the dash, tap-tap, sheesh. Flow Automatic.

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96 sampled loudness windows · 243 seconds. The white line follows the player; this is a local recording matched by title and duration, not a verified YouTube audio fingerprint.

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01 / The opening