Lyrics Stressin - Jag, Nick Grant, DCMBR

Stressin

Uh, either I make it out filthy or they gon' kill me
Give a field nigga a job so he can feel free
Gotta find a persona to fit my insecurities
If I wear all these chains, they won’t see the real me
Dancin' to the tunes that made submissive ancestors
Why the voice of the people get shaky as Fran Drescher’s?
Become a star with your, «Yes, massahs,» and your, «Yes, suhs»
I wonder why my favorite comedian’s playin' dress-up?
The moral of the story is balancing all the glory
Who would’ve thought I’d be much happier as a shorty?
The nature of this business twisted everything before me
I prefer a long time, affiliation is gaudy, shit
The pen I use here to write my wrongs
That paperwork got you locked, now you must fight the storm
They takin' some of what I make even when I perform
They fuck you over, but can’t make money without your songs
Man, I be stressin'
Stressin', balancin' my blessings
Knew that this was all I wanted
All I feel is pressure, learnin' from my lessons
You can’t tell me I ain’t chosen
All I do is roll around my town, try not to feel used
All I can do is roll up a pound and I blow it all down, it proves
Str-stressin'
The people, they tell me that you the bomb
Son tracks now, look at the speaker like you a mom
When you broke, all the labels, they treat you like you a con
'Til you get a chain and niggas’ll treat you like you LeBron
But still a puppeteer
Ain’t no Benz in the driveway, it’s still a bucket here
But my video got a Benz, I’m sayin' fuck it, here
Ain’t got me stressin', they hate it when niggas say the real
Meanwhile I got a deal but can’t pay the bills
Get the autotune brackin', you gon' be over hot
The A&R's, they trippin', they wanna know your block
Want me on my thug but I’m seein' the shit that Hova got
They on my headset, my video need a ho to pop
This for the nigga with his moms 'cause he don’t know the pops
Dropped out, can’t get a job, so he just go to rocks
That’s why a nigga always spit the realest
Labels got me locked, man, I hope the fans get to feel this
Stressin'
Stressin', balancin' my blessings
Knew that this was all I wanted
All I feel is pressure, learnin' from my lessons
You can’t tell me I ain’t chosen
All I do is roll around my town, try not to feel used
All I can do is roll up a pound and I blow it all down, it proves
Str-stressin'
Simple as this, your temple for rent, uh
Physically fit but mentally bent, uh
Taking a sentence, industry shit
How the fuck they tell you go leave your prints, your signature lint?
To some niggas when you signed, told you
You know the climate of this game, what you gon' cry over?
Long as you got me in this office, I’m gon' fight for you
But they can’t bear it when you cold, these niggas bipolar
Lost my mind over how I made it through the shots
Or living with the fear of niggas kicking in my spot
Just to let these labels go and treat me like an opp
Block my drop, block my come-up to the top
And now I’m blocked, I’m to the block, they gotta pop
Full of shit you don’t need, niggas hella fiends
But you don’t know the dreams I done see, you ain’t Elohim
And you don’t know the leaves of a tree from the devil seeds
Nah, you don’t know the…
Oh, I forgot you know everything, but nigga, I been…
Stressin', balancin' my blessings
Knew that this was all I wanted
All I feel is pressure, learnin' from my lessons
You can’t tell me I ain’t chosen
All I do is roll around my town, try not to feel used
All I can do is roll up a pound and I blow it all down, it proves
Str-stressin'
Stressin', balancin' my blessings
Knew that this was all I wanted
All I feel is pressure, learnin' from my lessons
You can’t tell me I ain’t chosen
All I do is roll around my town, try not to feel used
All I can do is roll up a pound and I blow it all down, it proves
Str-stressin'