| All I really need is a fishing hole |
| A little smoke and a fishing pole |
| It don’t really even matter what I’m fishing for |
| 'Cause I’m just drifting like that old |
| Bobber |
| Bobber |
| Bobber |
| Bobber |
| See I been treading water like a bobber |
| Got one son and a couple daughters |
| That don’t need me getting caught |
| Caught up in the wrong boat, no not a lotta folks |
| Understand why I go ghost on 'Gram |
| Why I got weeks without even showing my face to my fans |
| Those under me wanna be over me |
| And underneath that water ain’t no four-clover leaf |
| It’s shark infested and everyone’s dying to eat |
| So they create fake beef to get free publicity, ay |
| But I ain’t no buffet, you won’t eat up my plate |
| I sure don’t complain but I know how my brain goes |
| So I don’t responding to dissing 'cause that’s kid shit |
| If you really live this then you’d know |
| All I really need is a fishing hole |
| A little smoke and a fishing pole |
| It don’t really even matter what I’m fishing for |
| 'Cause I’m just drifting like that old |
| Bobber |
| Bobber |
| Bobber |
| Bobber |
| You see, I’m bipolar |
| I overthink and then I go to getting colder |
| I’d rather tote burdens big as boulders |
| Till my knees buckled and they crushed both of my shoulders |
| Than to worry about what war may be coming for the door of this soldier, |
| bring it on |
| Told a kid from sticks I better quit this shit quick |
| 'Cause nobody was with it, a hick, a misfit |
| A drunk that hung round anywhere the fire was lit |
| But never needed compliments |
| Now I turned constant nonsense into confidence |
| And did it so well that the whole industry is gossiping |
| But lots of them will never end up blossoming |
| Because the roots ain’t as deep as their pockets is |
| All I really need is a fishing hole |
| A little smoke and a fishing pole |
| It don’t really even matter what I’m fishing for |
| 'Cause I’m just drifting like that old |
| Bobber |
| Bobber |
| Bobber |
| Bobber |