| I move through the valley lows
|
| See mountains high as my hopes
|
| It’s crazy I stay afloat
|
| Still float through these clouds alone
|
| Get lost in the haziness, demons rush me
|
| Anxiousness, its crazy shit, when I walk through the fog
|
| (Yeah, yeah)
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| Spend your whole life searchin'
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| For what you already have
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| Some think they’ll find it in a bag of cash, or wedding rings
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| Or the expensive things that they dangle front us
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| That’s why we sacrifice the ones that’s down off of the come up
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| But get your bread up, promise follow and always spread love
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| And keep your head up
|
| When you walk through the fog
|
| Drifting, swirling
|
| As I’m
|
| Falling through these clouds again
|
| (Falling through these clouds)
|
| I move through the valley lows
|
| See mountains high as my hopes
|
| It’s crazy I stay afloat
|
| Still float through these clouds alone
|
| Get lost in the haziness, demons rush me
|
| Anxiousness, its crazy shit, when I walk through the fog
|
| Ayy, walk through the fog like bay weather
|
| Still undefeated like Mayweather
|
| I know I’m doin' it right
|
| The universe sendin' me signs in bold letters
|
| I see the writin' on the wall
|
| Went to Europe put the writin' on the wall
|
| I remember back when I was playin' ball
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| I ain’t really wanna do that shit at all
|
| But I stuck it out, mama ain’t raise no
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| Put in my papa ain’t raise no sucka
|
| You let her free blessin’s slip through your fingers
|
| You look like a dumb mufucka
|
| Not me, now we in NY, take a Uber to Harlem to get us a chopped cheese
|
| Crazy this last year, travel whole globe, still feel like I’m not free
|
| Why is that? |
| (Why is that?)
|
| 'Cause when it’s in your head you can’t run from it
|
| Hard to clean the dirt when you come from it
|
| Why they ask for the truth
|
| And then get they feelin’s hurt when you keep it 100?
|
| Niggas swear that they worth way more than they worth
|
| Until they get stunted on
|
| I remember gettin' fronted on
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| Now I’m big boss like Pop’s was
|
| I shoulda been dead or locked up
|
| Clean as a whistle but they still see me as criminal, yeah
|
| So with one middle finger up and the other on my genitals
|
| I move through the valley lows
|
| See mountains high as my hopes
|
| It’s crazy I stay afloat
|
| Still float through these clouds alone
|
| Get lost in the haziness, demons rush me
|
| Anxiousness, its crazy shit, when I walk through the fog |