about
Beat was done by Street Poetry Productions. I believe it's a Kavinsky sample. Had to try my hand at it.
lyrics
Spelled G-R-E, Gee, Guess pre box top back in elementary
Turned thirteen near the turn of the century,
real mom for adopt never had to mention me
Neighbor kid two years ahead of me, said black kids just gotta be the enemy
So he befriended me? And knocked me down on the play ground
and laughed so all his friends could see,
god damn, now whose the enemy
Never let the struggle get the best of me,
Life’s just a bitch always testing me
Stressin me out, it’s gotta mess with me, pressed to speak
Reach chest cavity, feel the lack of gravity,
but not confused with apathy
Give me time of day; I’ll accept it happily,
actually I don’t really see all of that happening
Nap on me, your time is prolly better spent sleeping
Catch Z’s leavin me more time for speaking
Shuffle shuffle daily bustle in the brain gotta flex the muscle
Got me actin strange like a gut full, nasty rushin out from the butthole
Ew, not about it, the stuations supple
They talk the talk, but they limp when they walk
Not a pimp, but they gawk, so white when I talk
So they write me off, got no credit to a name
Like a game, lights try to block the fame
I only spit the type of shit that I can back up
Man I only carry the baggage that I can pack up
So why you other dudes actin all tough
Imma do my own thing, just chill for a month
Take the time to wind down, maybe I can find out
What this life is all about, neck up to doubt
Quick from the mouth, up with your snout
Lips on the pout, different route
Birds of feather flying south
Still tryna get a couple bucks and Lincoln
Maybe pull myself outta this hole that I been diggin
A bit of cash and im drinking, thoughts turn to thinking
Float the road of life until I’m sinking
Im pissed off, and pissed up, and pissed drunk
Weight on my shoulder boulder heavy got me in a funk
Back to wall got my focus on im standin tough
Polish the bottle off, kick rocks and shoes scuffed
Whoa hold up, what’s with all the bullshit
I had grow up, actin like I fit in
I’m gonna throw up, life has got me feeling sick
Has to be unscripted, you change and then they miss it
You only gotta be who you wannabe follow me?
You really give a fuck what they think? Probably
Honestly, eccentric is no pathetic quality
It grows with my soul as I seek to find a following, follow me.
credits
released October 18, 2012
Street Poetry Productions on the Beat.
Guess Prefontaine on the Lyrics
Mnmlst on the Mix
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