| Vowed to never live on my knees
|
| Never beg, I’m never fed, off of 'gimme' or 'please'
|
| I never bled off of crawlin'
|
| So if I should bleed it’s from my hands dry wallin'
|
| Holdin' this shit is me
|
| Every wall that I installed, every entrance you see
|
| I drew it all and through it all, up to just what it be
|
| Knew it all, true to all, movin' on, true to form
|
| Forgiveness is at the end and I got endings to weave
|
| Attaching 'em where they meet at
|
| Back to where my lean at
|
| Dreams got wings but they clippin' 'em where they breathe at
|
| So fuck tryin' to sing I’m tryin' to swing where the seat’s at
|
| And know that anything that I bring, I’m tryin' to read that
|
| I try to fight a feelin' but the feeling subsides
|
| And the high that you’ve been given when you get to provide
|
| Is to find the ambition that you wish to revive
|
| Live and die, but while you livin', keep the kitchen in mind
|
| And remember, the place mats is laid where they should be at
|
| And everybody made they way to where they seats at
|
| Feel like all eyes on me from how they need that
|
| Can’t be mad at 'em cause here is where they eat at
|
| So me, I’m tryin' to decorate the kitchen table
|
| And put enough around for everyone of them mouths
|
| I mean, I’m just tryin' to decorate the kitchen table
|
| And put enough around for everyone sittin' down
|
| I mean…
|
| The process of providin' and tryin' to find it
|
| And words passin' the margin and contemplating consignment
|
| And circle backwards and forwards and fallin' for the reminder
|
| Then stressin' over these plates and the utensils that’s beside 'em
|
| You countin' three times and hopin' you counted wrong
|
| Till all of the count is gone
|
| And all that you counted on ain’t on the table
|
| And you was suppose to make sure that was decent
|
| And now all this decorating is needed
|
| Never waited to see it cause ain’t nobody waitin' to be seated
|
| And they ain’t tryin' to change up how they eatin'
|
| Man of the house entails bringin' home anything but a reason
|
| Cause a reason can’t clear away the grievance
|
| So fuck all that
|
| Before departin' I’ll turn into G. Garvin
|
| As long as the plate is straight I can deal with the deeper margins
|
| Long as I’m 808 I can deal with being a target
|
| Long as we ate today you can call it what you call it
|
| But remember, the place mats is laid where they should be at
|
| And everybody made they way to where they seats at
|
| Feel like all eyes on me from how they need that
|
| Can’t be mad at 'em cause here is where they eat at
|
| So me, I’m tryin' to decorate the kitchen table
|
| And put enough around for everyone of them mouths
|
| I mean, I’m just tryin' to decorate the kitchen table
|
| And put enough around for everyone sittin' down
|
| And remember, the place mats is laid where they should be at
|
| And everybody made they way to where they seats at
|
| Feel like all eyes on me from how they need that
|
| Can’t be mad at 'em cause here is where they eat at
|
| So me, I’m tryin' to decorate the kitchen table
|
| And put enough around for everyone of them mouths
|
| I mean, I’m just tryin' to decorate the kitchen table
|
| And put enough around for everyone sittin' down
|
| I mean… |