| Something sinister to it
|
| Pendulum swinging slow, a degenerate moving
|
| Through the city with criminal stealth, welcome to enemy turf
|
| Harder than immigrants work, golf is stitched into my shirt
|
| Get up off the pavement brush the dirt up off my psyche
|
| Psyche, psyche
|
| It’s probably been twelve years since my father left, left me fatherless
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| And I just used to say I hate him in dishonest jest
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| When honestly I miss this nigga, like when I was six
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| And every time I got the chance to say it I would swallow it
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| Sixteen, I’m hollow, intolerant, skipped shots
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| I storm that whole bottle, I’ll show you a role model
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| I’m drunk pissy pissing on somebody front lawn
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| Trying to figure out how and when the fuck I missed moderate
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| Momma often was offering peace offerings
|
| Think, wheeze cough, scoffing and he’s off again
|
| Searching for a big brother, Tyler was that
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| Plus he liked how I rap, the blunted mice in the trap
|
| Too Black for the White kids and too White for the Blacks
|
| From honor roll to to cracking locks up off them bicycle racks
|
| I’m indecisive, I’m scatterbrained and I’m frightened it’s evident
|
| And them eyes where he hiding all them icicles at
|
| Something sinister to it
|
| Pendulum swinging slow, a degenerate moving
|
| Through the city with criminal stealth, welcome to enemy turf
|
| Harder than immigrants work, golf is stitched into my shirt
|
| Get up off the pavement brush the dirt up off my psyche
|
| Psyche, psyche
|
| Time lapse, bars rhymin' heart’s bottomless pit
|
| Was mobbin deep as 96 Havoc and Prodigy did
|
| We were the potty-mouth posse crash the party and dip
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| With all belongings then toss em out to the audience
|
| Nothing was fucking awesome, trying to make it from the bottom
|
| This is feeling as hard as Vince Carter’s knee cartilage is
|
| Supreme garment and weed gardeners garnishing spliffs
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| With Keef particles and entering apartments with 'zine article
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| Tolerance through boundaries, I know you happy now
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| Craven and these Complex fuck niggas done track me down
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| Just to be the guys that did it, like I like attention
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| Not the type where niggas trying to get a raise at my expense
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| Supposed to be grateful, right, like thanks so much you made my life
|
| Harder and the ties between my mom and I are strained and tightened
|
| Even more than they were before all of this shit
|
| Been back a week and I already feel like calling it quits
|
| Something sinister to it
|
| Pendulum swinging slow, a degenerate moving
|
| Through the city with criminal stealth, welcome to enemy turf
|
| Harder than immigrants work, golf is stitched into my shirt
|
| Get up off the pavement brush the dirt up off my psyche
|
| Psyche, psyche |