Lyrics:
to say
So many thoughts in my head without the eloquence to convey
A picture painted with washed out color
I excel at judging my own book by its cover
This
The place smelled like Raid
The eyes take a moment to adjust so
You can see what's inside the cage
From your book I took a page, bell hooks
I'm squatting
bleeding pain on the beat
So i might write a book
See my dawg get popped on the
Block and it left me shook
Paint a picture, Imma hitta
I did some things you
me to grave
My life feels like a book dey be judging by it cover
Cus I was in a spot tryna make it to the top no movement buh I'll be okay
Said this
'61 Betty Crocker guide
"Charm your guests with Chiffon cake inside"
By '64 Mom dropped the attribution
If you ask, a Campbell family institution
There I was a dirty boy,
A stranger in this town
There you were a broken toy,
Lost and never found
Watch out, here comes the judge
Can't tell by
Lord let me start by saying pardon me
I owe you an apology
For not giving you all of me, Lord why is it so hard to be
c Christian in this world today
I
to have you a ritual
But, I ain't as crazy as I seem to be
It's just that nothin' is the way that is seem's to me
I'm feelin' less then, druggin' him up
The way they hate on Godi and Ubi is fuckin' comedy
The combination so uncommon a cause of company
To covet me and cover my cost, cousin, now come at me
My
mission here is finished
Picking off the henchmen with intentional perfection
I see my main target taking cover by the fences
Two to the head, smoke
wasn't there but I heard about it in a book
I'd give his mom some credit because she never fucked a man
Or did she and it's all a cover up for
And with my pen
I would stow them away into obscurity
I remember when my lines were
Rooted in genuine love not insecurity
You see, I used to be a poet
I
bushels and memories and lethargy
So honestly
Curiosity killed my day job
But keep it I don’t want it back
Don’t judge a book by its spilt milk cause your
Life is a struggle, ain't nothing easy about it
Everything good you got to work hard for
Everything thats worthless comes easy
Talk to them. Let them
Witness as I begin my poems about yin
Can't we just see the same pre game, see the name
Busting as the seasons change, easing on my speaker game
Don't judge
Potter book but I be totin' brooms
I know why you wanna hate, you got nothing else to do
Rifle with a scope so I see a fuckboy with a view
30 stickin
up with a silver string
Delivered by a fast train rearranging how I think
He said "I can't believe you even know that I exist,
I've got all of your
with Supreme court judges
Autograph pictures for families saying
They love us next time they see us we're
Buried under the covers
Hell in the back they
the fold out covers
And the crazy illustrations
I got older and bought my own records
By thirteen I had three crates collected, huh
And that's my pride, no
seem, to me, I gotta act the same
Who am I? My jet black, covers the sky
Seen brothers that's slayed for revealin' the lies
Speakin' the truth, my back
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