| Love me like fighting thru yellow tape,
|
| 'til you find that the face ain’t mine and it set you straight,
|
| But you find that the face was in line with your other name,
|
| So you repast, front of the line to get a plate,
|
| Or love me like a purchase on 47th and 6th,
|
| And the Russian jeweler knock off $ 100 off what you pick,
|
| In the middle of February your sleeves up off your wrist,
|
| And you add another $ 100 when discussing what you spent,
|
| And the discussion hit a switch
|
| And it turns to where you tucking your wrist,
|
| Or you get to untucking your suspense,
|
| And all the suspense of it leads to adrenaline running
|
| And it’s orchestrated all from the other side of the fence,
|
| And then love me like that side of the fence love bottom lines,
|
| While their kids call their friends kids and they holla «slime»,
|
| And they don’t get the gist but they get what it can provide,
|
| And they still don’t know how to pronounce «collards» but it’s fine,
|
| Love me for not assuming that you see me and assume
|
| I’m pursuing how you see me tryna lead you out your gloom,
|
| Or maybe you assume that you see me in the scenery you knew,
|
| And I ain’t never did a scene but it’s cool, right?,
|
| Love me for overlooking what I ain’t have to,
|
| Chose you when you didn’t choose you when you had to,
|
| Pretend it never happened if mine should ever ask you,
|
| Wouldn’t take much to revert to what your past knew
|
| Love me like Harlem loves Pan Pan’s memory,
|
| Standing on display off of hand to hand symmetry,
|
| Cameras get in play while you handle what the ticket be,
|
| And candles on the way if you ain’t handing out dinner seats,
|
| So love me like I introduced you Dominicans,
|
| Whether it was Ayisha Diaz or her kin and them,
|
| Talking bout a price and what it’s worth to be the middleman,
|
| Fitted for a crown and how it works and the expense of it,
|
| Love me like the drummer, love me like never running outta runners,
|
| Love me like what we sung before they hung us,
|
| Hymn’s getting lost in the clouds when they was flung up,
|
| Or shells getting caught in the crowd by the wrong «others»,
|
| Like, other than you, and other than him,
|
| Until they learn those exceptions turn to others with them, right?,
|
| Or, otherwise shooting for the other side,
|
| 'til they box you without a trial on a 1−5,
|
| And then love me like you was Venida Browder,
|
| Pickets outside and you just tryna ease the crowd up,
|
| Knowing your heart died makes your heart beat louder,
|
| Until the speakers blow and it lift you up from around us
|
| Love me like we-loved the legacy that her youngest would become,
|
| And the illusion of no reruns,
|
| Love me like turning down a plea when you need one,
|
| But knowing that your word is worth more than what a plea does,
|
| Love me like getting pussy off a DM,
|
| The turn around time at her door before the week ends,
|
| Caution she ain’t throw out before, but now she in,
|
| And her heart beat sitting at the door that let you leap in
|
| Love me like pictures on the wall not resembling
|
| You so them pictures on the wall start trembling
|
| And you got pictures for the wall that can fit on it
|
| But dude start thinking bout his wall and that’s the end of it,
|
| Love me like '88 3s, Nike Air heels,
|
| Dropping $ 220 will take away how fear feels
|
| I’m $ 700 first day, word to the steering wheel,
|
| Kites for who bleeding but this a hype we believe in
|
| Love me like not understanding the hype of it,
|
| But you love it so there ain’t no one else who might love it,
|
| Or loving it since you understand cause you was there,
|
| When it was misunderstood at $ 100 a pair, yeah,
|
| Love me like the moment that the jakes leave,
|
| Knowing that’s another 24 with no the state greens,
|
| My man said his aim dirty but his name clean,
|
| Tried to tell his mother the difference before the day leave,
|
| Told her love him for every chain that he wore,
|
| Every serial number scratched, every tre in the drawer,
|
| Every feeling she ever had where she awakes to a call
|
| That he’s gone, it never happened so don’t blame the allure
|
| Love me like Jada love Sheek love Styles
|
| Love LOX lovers all geeking thru the crowd,
|
| Love me like me at 14 geeking out,
|
| Or 20 years later still screaming who it’s bout,
|
| Love me like a J dub’s dedication,
|
| Following their lead 'cause they seem to have better patience,
|
| You fear what you don’t understand or levitate with,
|
| I say that with a pint in my hand, that’s regulation
|
| Love me like my son on the way when I see his charm,
|
| And by the time you hear this he’ll be in my arms,
|
| Same arms forever here where he belongs,
|
| Is the same arms that Ima bare if you mean him harm
|
| Love me like all of the above in a bag,
|
| Singing «fuck 'em all!» |
| when you in love with a stash,
|
| Or singing «fuck 'em all!» |
| when you in love with a flag
|
| That takes what you want, or loves what you had, love is love |