| Beer goggles, fear nada
|
| My tears dry slow
|
| Used to stay up 'til 1am
|
| Just to watch the Apollo
|
| Used to be scared to sleep
|
| My mother might be dead when I woke
|
| Reminiscin', heavy visions
|
| Gave me chills while I wrote
|
| Parasuco’s, late night
|
| Ironing my school clothes
|
| Cut party, bumpin' NEXT
|
| «Baby Getting' Too Close»
|
| We was only humpin'
|
| I was suckin' titties then
|
| Then shit got serious
|
| All my niggas hustlin'
|
| I was broke as fuck
|
| My best friend was gettin' money
|
| 2.5 had the Porsche
|
| The GS, we was stuntin'
|
| Played my little songs in his Range
|
| We was frontin'
|
| Young, totin' guns just for fun
|
| Never bust 'em
|
| Hypnotic and Hennessy
|
| Enemies, we jumped them
|
| Rumbling in the jungle
|
| While we stumblin'
|
| Wondering, what we done
|
| To become hunted
|
| Jumped in the Devil’s cauldron
|
| With the dumplings
|
| From then, my only function been malfunction
|
| (Rhythmic Gibberish)
|
| My dick floatin' in the bubble bath
|
| Plottin' out my future
|
| Reflectin' on my past
|
| Livin' the now, cause the now is perfect
|
| You can’t spoil now
|
| The just then, she took off her towel
|
| Gave me head like she worship me
|
| Like we was married in a past life
|
| Like she was readin' me my last rites
|
| Gift and a curse, it’s your worst
|
| Usurped in inertia
|
| Your persistent peril
|
| To quench your thirst for nirvana
|
| Condoms and sewer water, filled with regrets
|
| I moved and put no furniture in my crib
|
| Suffocated by my success
|
| My destiny sweats
|
| Skewing my vision,?
|
| Fuel my indecision
|
| I ain’t dissin', I’m just venting
|
| Fuck that nigga
|
| That whole shit was my fault
|
| For deferring from my mission
|
| Tell my niggas, never count my money
|
| Tell these leechin' ass bitches
|
| Stay the fuck from me
|
| Tell my OGs I love them
|
| Never doubt my judgement
|
| I got some things in my head
|
| That I can’t discuss with them
|
| And that’s hard
|
| Bombarded by bombs
|
| They can blow your ass apart
|
| My moms got cancer, told me when I got off tour
|
| And it put in perspective what was most important
|
| With 'em chasin'
|
| The fuckin'? |
| that I’m caught in
|
| Deals with Satan
|
| The same shit I was avoiding
|
| Became the same shit I turned around and deemed important
|
| I need my soul
|
| Badly eatin' at my sanity
|
| My inner sanctum’s being sacrificed for vanity
|
| See, I’m forgettin' who I am
|
| Or who I planned to be
|
| And all my niggas ain’t no help
|
| They just as scared as me
|
| Remember 'fore ?, swore we’d never change, y’all
|
| Now we all afraid to talk
|
| But got the same thoughts
|
| Perplexin' how you can have everything you want
|
| But at the same time have nothin' at all
|
| I don’t need nobody’s approval |