Watsky- All You Can Do ft. Jimetta Rose @2watsky

Uploaded August 2014 | Updated September 2026, 1 week ago

PREORDER THE NEW ALBUM "ALL YOU CAN DO"
georgewatsky.com/presale
iTunes DOWNLOAD:
http://smarturl.it/Watsky.AYCD
GOOGLE PLAY PREORDER:
http://smarturl.it/AYCD.Google

TOUR DATES:
georgewatsky.com/tour

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@gwatsky
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Directed by Jackson Adams
Director of photography- Alan Gwizdowski
Edited by George Watsky
VFX- Galen Frazer

Featuring @Jimettarose
Produced by Anderson .Paak
Engineered by Nils Montan
Co-written by Vicky Nguyen
String arrangement by Kush Mody
Horn arrangement by Max Miller-Loran
Mixed by Justin Gerrish
Mastered by Joe LaPorta for Sterling Sound
Piano, synth, trumpet- Max Miller-Loran
Bass- Kelsey Gonzalez
Guitar- Jose Rios
String section- Violin 1: Rhea Fowler; Violin 2: Crystal Alforque; Viola: Matthew Witmer, Cello: Max Mueller

Verse 1
Happy's not a faucet that'll flow when a handle is turned
I wanna handle my shit, but it hasn't occurred
I need the stamina, keep on like my grandmama
When I'm not on camera I gotta be a man of my word
And be a greater guy, not some thin-as-paper guy
Like the times that Georgie Porgie kissed the girl and made her cry
Saying “see ya later, bye.” Shit I say is pretty strange
Coming back for Christmas and we bitch on how the city changed
Fuck it, man, we're changing too. Look at what we're going through
Mama used to buy me shirts she said that I would grow into
But it's draping on me like an apron or a cape, a great tsunami wave of cotton that I'm caught in that she bought at Ross—I know the cost of it was probably awesome but my style is sorta sloppy
I'll fit it when I blossom like a California Poppy
The tears are freezing on my cheek in Boston out in Copley
And I don't really know why, no I don't really know why

Chorus
All you can do is all you can do is all you can do is all you can do is…

Verse 2
So pour that liquor out. I never chickened out
But if got to make a second pick I'd take a different route
But a grip of my decisions pretty Mickey Mouse
I tried to join the 27 Club, they kicked me out
It was like I'm limpin into heaven while my dick is out
And there's Amy Winehouse sittin on a cloud and drinking stout
But she spits it out the moment I come gliding in
She's all like, “come on Joplin, who the fuck invited him?!
Hide all of the Heinekens!" No, they don't know my name
My heart is lowkey broken so I'm takin Novocain
And Jimmy Morrison (the Doors), and Brian Jones, you know, the Stones
are joking, toking on a roach playing poker game
I know that I'm a bastard. The walls are alabaster
Jimi plays his Stratocaster jamming out with Kurt Cobain
They're playing Purple Rain, or maybe Purple Haze
And Kurt says, “How the fuck they let this jerk in with his hurtful ways?”
I try to jump and spread my wings like I'm a bird of prey
But I hit the earth and break a mothafucka’s vertebrate (hey)
I guess I'm fucking up the blueprint for success
Woke up in the hospital with Jimi's bootprint on my chest
This recklessness, no common senses
I Kamikaze, there's consequences
I don't condone it, but I did it, I'ma own it
I've been living for the moment gotta go (go!)

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$Watsky- Lovely Thing Suite Part 1: Conversations [x Infinity] x Infinity album download: http://radi.al/xInfinity http://facebook.com/gwatsky @gwatsky Directed and Produced by Carlos Lopez Estrada & Diego Huacuja Animation Director & Art: Diego Huacuja aka deachete Animators: Diego Huacuja & Pablo Díaz Produced by Basa (basaestudio.com) Sound: Michael OConnor Music produced by Kush Mody Mixed by Andrew Oedel Mastered by Gentry Studer and Howie Weisenberg Verse 1 I remember vividly my tears dropping on the grey carpet onthe top step pops giving me his best guess me confessing the burning question stressing and concerning me and turning me to a wet mess it’s probably nothing I get it, I’m aware I know it’s probably stupid to be scared But these days are flying past us and nobody seems to care It’s like we’re sprinting towards a brick wall we’re pretending isn’t there What happens when we hit it? Do we split into a million bits Or do we come back as a bullfrog and talk in ribbits? What is it? What is it? What is it? You got the answer so give it, so give it, so give it Don’t lie, what happens when we die? Dad says, Georgie I’m just guessing from what I’ve been told Probably thinking, “How’d I raise this emo fucking nine-year-old?” Since I’m sorta really not religious it’s a crapshoot I roll a pair of dice Although the thought of paradise is very nice In my heart I know I don’t believe in magic So I’m thinking maybe death is like eternal TV static or returning to the state before your birth absorbed into the earth the fewer hours left the more they’re worth I admit that it’s difficult to think about I think everybody got a little bit of doubt You don’t get to hide from it even if you shout Not a soul on the planet gets to wiggle out And he said that I know that’s it’s tough to take in son but it’s so early I can see you’re in a hurry but don’t worry cause Chorus That isn’t for a long, long time That isn’t for a long, long time That isn’t for a long, long time That isn’t for a long, long, long, long time Verse 2 Life moves fast Made the mistake of blinking, twenty years passed Now I’m sitting in my living room in Brooklyn with father We don’t bother doing Christmas in the Bay any longer It’s first time that we’ve had this conversation He says “it’s tough to take in I know we’re not quite ancient But we’ve reached age where we should probably talk arrangements We could take it several routes We could sell the house We can’t work forever, eventually money will run out That’s a spot taking a loan would help us cover Which would make it tougher to leave something for you and your brother” Stop—can’t you see? Every meal that you paid for me all this power to chase a dream All this privilege not to crave riches but it’s plain to me the key fact is it’s easy to act like cash means jack shit if you never lacked it and the greatest honor I could have is to make a buck and pass back a fraction of all the happiness you gave to me And I will never make you live where you don’t aim to be Age is just data we paint our story A to Z then dip out R.I.P. rip out, we tear out the pages Tear up the stage and we take a seat making a vacancy Famous or not, we fade from the plot Every day when a new night falls I ride around the sun on this big blue ball I get a bit further from the kid called Paul and I get a bit closer to the big brick wall But since inching up to that fence I can run my fingers against all the bricks and mortar and sense that it’s not so cold and so dense And although I’m mournful I’ve known that I’m not immortal I’m not banging into stone but I’m more heading through this portal We’re born to return to home We’re all born to be mincemeat everything dies except for Papaya King hotdogs on 86th St. Dad hands me a napkin, tells me it’s been the same since the fifties He didn’t always love the city but dammit he’ll miss me How can you miss something after you leave, I agree that it’s sad but please Don’t dwell on it Dad, because— Chorus$