[Intro] Aight... Why the fuck is there one sock? I put two in. TWO! This machine owes me clothing. [Verse 1] Got a basket full of shirts and a mountain of shame Been walkin' past the pile like, “Tomorrow’s the day” Then tomorrow became Thursday, Thursday became “Fuck it, spray some Febreze, they can’t tell anyway” Whites with the colors, I’m tempting the gods One red towel in there and the whole load is fucked Now my underwear’s pink and I’m blaming the drum Like the washer made choices, motherfucker, not us Got detergent on the lid, detergent on me Detergent on the floor by the laundry machine How the fuck did I spill it? The cap was attached Now the whole damn room smells aggressively clean Checked every pocket, supposedly thorough Till a tissue gets shredded into ten million curls Now my black fuckin’ hoodie looks covered in snow Like I washed it with dandruff from half of the world [Pre-Chorus] Wash Rinse Spin Repeat Why’s the washer walkin’ halfway down the street? Bang Clank Boom What the fuck did I leave? Oh. Socket wrench. Cool. That’s probably bad. [Chorus] I’m in a fight with the laundry And the laundry might win Got a dryer full of static And a washer that spins Every sock got a partner Till I throw the shit in Then one vanishes forever Witness protection again I’m in a fight with the laundry Got the whole house tense Shrunk a shirt down three sizes Now it fits like a vest If adulthood is folding Then I failed the test Fuck the basket, fuck the hangers Pile it up with the rest [Verse 2] Dryer says forty minutes, it’s eighty-five later Still one towel wet like it’s saving the flavor Everything else could ignite if I breathe But that towel’s somehow wetter than it started to be And the fitted sheet? Fuck that. Ancient curse in a cloth Tried folding that bastard, got physically lost Every corner found another, another appeared Now I’m trapped in elastic and questioning god And I know what you’re thinking: “Just fold it right now” That’s adorable. You don’t know how this goes down Clean clothes hit the couch, then they sit there a week Till I need the exact shirt at the bottom of the heap So I dig, then I flip, launch half of the stack Now the shit that was folded ain’t folded intact Congratulations, look You cleaned all your clothes And converted one problem into twelve different goals [Bridge] There’s a hamper upstairs There’s a hamper below There are clothes in the bathroom That nobody owns There’s a towel on the railing Been there way too long I don’t know if it’s clean So I’m leaving it alone [Verse 3] Reading tags like a chemist at the end of my day “Cold wash, gentle cycle, do not tumble dry” Motherfucker, you’re a shirt, stop demanding this shit You’re going normal cycle, either live or you die Delicates? Nah. You live here, adapt Going normal cycle with the rest of the pack If you can’t survive thirty-eight minutes with jeans Natural selection just took your ass back Then the buzzer goes off But I’m busy, ignore it Twenty minutes later every wrinkle is permanent Turn it on one more time just to loosen 'em up That’s procrastination powered by electrical current [Chorus] I’m in a fight with the laundry And the laundry might win Got a dryer full of static And a washer that spins Every sock got a partner Till I throw the shit in Then one vanishes forever Witness protection again I’m in a fight with the laundry Got the whole house tense Shrunk a shirt down three sizes Now it fits like a vest If adulthood is folding Then I failed the test Fuck the basket, fuck the hangers Pile it up with the rest [Outro] Wait. Where are my jeans? ... They’re in the washer. I never started it. Fuck.
