The Repair [radio version]

Byron Bank

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Byron Bank


3:20

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Yeah
It’s Bank
Yeah I’m back with some new shit
I put it all in this music
Two three four
Who’s that knocking at my motherfuckin’ doe
Hold up
Let’s go

On my shit I be talking it, mighty fly when I’m walking it
Back to the future, I keep the key like I’m Solomon
Micheal J vibes, Jordan 1s in my closet sit 
Clean for the occasion when I clock in and represent
Work like I’m never off, opinions don’t need your thoughts
Moving in silence can’t give ingredients to the sauce
Y’all ain’t ready for this shit I be on
On the toilets I be written these songs (hold up)
It’s time I switch gears with ‘em, these words yes I still meant ‘em
Your feelings so deal with ‘em, this poison is still venom
Really don’t give a damn, f*ck it this who I am
No matter the situation, it’s life and it’s never fair
Tired of the bullshit, my mind Imma lose it
Heavy is the crown but I bare it and use it
Go hard or go home, put it all in the music
I was in a dark place now it’s time for some new shit

One two three four
Who’s that knocking at my motherfuckin’ doe 
Bunch of fake pretend friends, never seen ‘em before
I was down for the count, now I’m back at they throat (hold up)
Five six seven eight
Ready for whatever, baby give me that cake
This one is for the road all that trouble is sparred
But I came to fix it all, you can say to repair

(Yeah)
Been to hell and back, it’s very familiar
They say you’re nobody ’til somebody kills you
No weapons formed against you shall prosper but alive it will knock ya
I keep a team ready full of Rastas to block ya
They don’t want this positive shit
But the struggle keeps me hungry so I gobble it quick
When the marathon continues who gone run for the kid
Everybody in the frame but can’t fit in the lens (man)
They ain’t ready for it ‘cause all them lies they just telling stories
I had enough it’s getting mad annoying
No middle man up in my business he ain’t that important
And if you tryna kill my vibe, you can meet Deloris
She’s Call of Duty with no scope, your team is a no show
Lobby full of killers that’s prestiging and so so
You like it, I love it and I’m just spitting the facts
I was in a dark place, but let me run the hook back (it goes)

One two three four
Who’s that knocking at my motherfuckin’ doe 
Bunch of fake pretend friends, never seen ‘em before
I was down for the count, now I’m back at they throat (hold up)
Five six seven eight
Ready for whatever, baby give me that cake
This one is for the road all that trouble is sparred
But I came to fix it all, you can say to repair

One two three four
Five six seven eight

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Written by: Byron Jones

Lyrics © Songtrust Blvd

Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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