| So… so where are you?
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| You’re in some hotel room
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| You just… you just wake up and you’re in a hotel room
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| I mean you know who you are
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| And you kinda know all about yoself but…
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| Just for the day to day stuff… notes are really uh… useful
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| (Hook)
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| New beginnings, startin over
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| Celebratin, still hardly sober
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| Memory gone, so forgetful
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| I can’t remember nothing, I need a pad and pencil
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| Look what I’m getting into
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| Rockin like fraggle, bitches
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| My spirit slowly liftin, no different from castle bridges
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| I’m blackin out like charcoal, they lookin for me — Marco
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| Don’t know too many kings
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| I paint the city, she tell me how much she love my art show
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| We off that killa purple, Sophia and habo
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| Fuck it, I’m in it, watch me, that’s what they usually do
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| Kickin these niggas out like…
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| And they be on the corner hustling
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| Probably see a crook or two
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| Bitches got a appetite for lots of plots, hookahs too
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| Pregnant women hustle nigga, see that mean I’m pushin through
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| They not awesome, they just talkin
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| Huh, I got some shit I’m dealin with, hopefully time fix
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| Either they fuck wit you or dog you out, blind sticks
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| Went up a lot of steps, work ethic is rocky
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| My eyes tight like fried rice dipped in wasabi
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| Without the money it’s a hobby
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| So broke I couldn’t even pay respect, they wouldn’t let me in, I’m Bobby
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| Up in rally, now I’m poppin up in hella folk discussions
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| But I don’t think they understand, I mean
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| You can’t pull a nigga into remembering
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| The more pressure you’re under — the harder it gets
|
| (Hook)
|
| New beginnings, startin over
|
| Celebratin, still hardly sober
|
| Memory gone, so forgetful
|
| I can’t remember nothing, I need a pad and pencil
|
| Yea, sleepin on miotis, spark it up with lighters
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| Leavin out the info like why you ain’t invite us?
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| Talkin code red, drum roll tipsy
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| Like I’m leaving Nipsy’s
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| Shootin stars droppin
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| Wallpaper pealin, nobody’s close to me
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| Except my neighbors' building, fish tank fillin
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| Lot of eyes on me but they don’t even know
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| Shit, where I get it from?
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| Nigga you feel me
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| On this bitch like this trip, bumpin LV
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| The same dreams you buyin they couldn’t sell me
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| Cuz now I fuck with em
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| Na, tell me I’m far ahead
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| Butter like garlic bread, I got a lot of drive
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| Can’t even park in red, runnin out of ink
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| But never out of thoughts
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| It all make em say…
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| Jumpin off the hook
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| Let that man bungee, tell him hit the showers
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| But not with Zan Dusky
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| Ricocheting off him, slick as a day in Harlem
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| Soon as she see me say
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| Wait wait, something don’t feel right
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| I think somebody’s fuckin with me
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| He’s tryin to get me to kill the wrong person or something
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| (Hook)
|
| New beginnings, startin over
|
| Celebratin, still hardly sober
|
| Memory gone, so forgetful
|
| I can’t remember nothing, I need a pad and pencil
|
| (Outro)
|
| Look what I’m getting into
|
| Rockin like gravel, bitches
|
| My spirit slowly liftin, no different from castle bridges
|
| I’m blackin out like charcoal…
|
| Wait wait, what the fuck I’m doin?
|
| I already said that shit |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Memento , by - GQ. Song from the album Death Threats & Love Notes, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп