[Lyric] Gear (Ivan Ave)

[Intro]
I made a joke to you about the gear
I'm talking 'bout the gear, gear, gear (Yeah)
Real gear
You know what I'm talkin'— (Yeah)
Okay, yeah
Can I talk to you about— (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

[Verse 1]
Yeah, I see you liking my old posts
Like five in a row (Woah)
No shade, that's human nature
We some scrollin' ass souls
Factory settings inside our bones, uh
You wanna get up out the cold
I'm tryna read up on your clothes
I'm tryna read your whole love language, Rosetta Stone
Like I don't know what's set in stone
Or what's yet to be shapеd and molded
All I know is that we all got herе kitted with our own gear
Hibernating on the low like a polar bear
Golden gloves, yeah I own a pair
Guard up, trust issues installed in the muscle tissue
My low ends go deep
It's cool if your trunk rattles too
By divine design or byproducts of the Jurrasic
You a rare artifact and that's all facts
How you gon' let your own hater brain battle rap you?
That's how they condition us little crabs in Imperial buckets
Yet I have the strongest blood pump, feeling like fuck it
Had me chasing gear, feeling like I'm stuntin'
She said get at me when you rockin' the means of production
[Chorus]
And I was showin' off my gear (Yeah)
She was all about some real gear (Yeah, yeah, yeah)
Okay (Yeah)
Are we even speakin' from the [?]
I feel we really talkin' (Yeah, yeah)
She like, "You don't say" (Yeah, yeah, yeah)
"Oh, you and I were just talking" (Yeah)

[Verse 2]
Damn
Yeah, I was thinking
An archeologist in a Delorean couldn't dig harder
Than I dig on you when you talkin' that hard shit
Analog girl in the world Elon built
You gon' normalize eroticizing a Marxist
Keep talking that way
Fuck an algorithm, we move with the algae's rhythm
On the floor like neanderthals
In the strobe lights, gripping my balls
Don't even try to figure out my [?] with your own
I don't trust recipes if the page ain't sticky
Deuces actin' like Neo in the Construct
You don't gotta download the funk
All the gear in you, bro
Yo, put that shit on Splice
You don't gotta download shit
All the gear already in yo' soul
My blood pump pump built by a mother and one son
Who got up off the farm and did her things, a young gun
My bones built by the guys she found funny
Slidin' past in the buggy
My songs get built off the unsung
Since obedience, they ain't no [?]
I ain't freaking on, some B.D.S.M
From [?] to a pre-classic
Back-to-back I [?]
Back-to-back like the [?] logo on your chest
Back-to-back like you don't know about sex
All my recipes hittin' like Jack Dempsey
Bon appétit, I hope you digest well
I don' even know if I'm makin' sense
I just switch on the gear and now I'm set
[Chorus]
I'm talking 'bout the real gear
Yeah, I'm talking 'bout gear (Yeah)
I'm talking 'bout the gear, gear (Yeah, yeah, yeah)
Yeah (Yeah)
What if I show the insides of my gear (Yeah, yeah)
Maybe we fuck with each other's real gear (Yeah)

[Outro]
Shout out to the shoulda, woulda, couldas
Yeah, yeah, yeah