Lyrics:
Covers, videos and all that shit
Fuck you post-Drake-ass cliche-jerking, LA-Slauson rapping
Fuck-nigga-ass Hypebeast niggas, now back to the album
whores don’t know what’s hell, shit
They don’t know how to work, they just twerk
They just make a man work for them
I don’t have a lot of albums, in
Fact I
Big ass platinum of my album
Hanging in my crib
Marble floors, designer shoes
This just the way I live
My next door neighbor he a plug
So he
the contradiction
Between America's reality and perhaps her
Selective vision of herself
Corruption just refers to fraudulent
Conduct by the powerful, which is
mama
I don't wanna measure what I'm
Worth by some dollars
Gold on my teeth, though! (Heh)
They want me to fit in a package
So my demographic will
It's the return, East Atlanta, Santa!
Off the wall, off the chain
Off the top, I'm off the leash
So many freaks coming by the spot
Had to move,
Taylor's in that stash
By that 7-45 beamer
And the way you give back shots
Like Venus and Serena
Have a nigga on stage gangsta leanin', oooh
If ever you
food for thoughts cuz by the time
I'm done with these beats you're gonna need Atkins
I could see your mouth watering
That's why I bought you a pack full
something
Here goes nothing
Ain't that something
Don't got room for me in your life end of discussion
The album's a bakers dozen
This is all in my timing
Yeah, this album is dedicated
To all the teachers that told me I'd never amount to nothin'
To all the people that lived above the buildings that I
Yeah, this album is dedicated
To all the teachers that told me I'd never amount to nothin'
To all the people that lived above the buildings that I
Baba God Blessing no go pass you by,
Him go bless you so Tey dem go ask you why
And the bad belle people dem go pass you by
Cos baba God no go let
the album cover, Heart went cold, I got it stitched
Like between me and you, I don't know what else to do
This my second mixtape, I hope they tune into my
Back at 13 I can recall
Being young and dumb wasn't our fault
Time really flying right by
I remember back in middle school bumping Logic's old songs
Speak a dream and it exist, stretch the truth and make it flip
Walk the walk and never slip, through the heat and never drip
Master but don't ever whip,
out
The whole country by Khaled to rap on BET
Guess he saw me as the best man
619 to 858 to 760 I'm reppin'
San Diego to all you foreign
Daygo's what we
Youngin' wit' a dream but nobody gave a shit about it
Ten years later pick up a pen, write a hit about it
And back then I thought I'd be defined by how
my first album going hard on diss last one diss last one made diss album in 7 days in my home studio blessed by God to be on diss ride i rode da wave
started
Dropped 2 albums sounded so apart and
Y’all still in the same spot, sound the same as we all did, yeah
Don’t compare to me these others
We are not
a dream
If you don't have a dream
How you gunna have a dream come true
[verse 2]
I used to love music it was like my hidden hobbie
But I couldn't get
Hello Kitty on my wify wify
Gon be rich by any mean
Pull up in the slum with that Lamborghini
Martin Luther King it's started as dream yeah
Pull up in
money, money, money, money ain't the motive
What's your name again? Nobody knows it
Don't speak to me nigga, you not important
I'm focused
They say I'm
a nasty perv
If we slide and you don’t blow me you got nerves
Mad birds be singing to get on O’s cock
If you got curves that’s hot you got a shot
If not yo
new album is streaming on NPR, it’s called “Quiet Signs”
What a beautiful album... it would be a dream of mine
To one day work with Jessica Pratt, who
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