Lyrics On This Way - Joyner Lucas, The Game, iyla

On This Way

And I think I been countin' my hardest days
Lord, won’t you save me?
Oh
You know what I’ve been prayin' for
And I never thought I’d see this day, yeah
I gotta make a change
And I think I been countin' my hardest days
Uh, writin' plans to make a new report (Yeah)
Grind hard and turn my basement to a jewelry store
If you don’t do it for your kids, then who you do it for?
I’m tryna read and learn some shit I never knew before
Focused on investments (Yeah)
Build me up some new resorts
We can manifest it (Word)
You’d rather hit the Louis store
Wastin' all your blessings
Care about the ones who doubt you
Just to impress some hoes who never gave a fuck about you
Just what I discovered
Never believed in family, that word is really a cover
Just a title that have the advantage to keep you under (Oh, yeah)
I got nigga I consider brothers more than my brothers
So watch it, you show your colors
We livin' in a world where prison walls is depravation (Yeah)
Livin' in a world where snitchin' calls for celebration (Yeah)
Livin' in a world where niggas crawl and segregation
Rainy nights and desperation
Pray we fight the legislation
Protest until we flatline, paralyzed (Uh)
They throwin' stones at my Black Lives Matter signs (Oh)
Made a change but we still not satisfied
I can’t smile half the time I’m still (I'm still)
I’m still waitin', sittin' plottin' on the couch (Word)
'Cause I know that I ain’t safe when all these cops on the prowl (Yeah)
Tryna think of other ways, but we ain’t got no other route
I’m startin' to understand that shit that Pac was talkin' 'bout (Word)
And I think I been countin' my hardest days
Lord, won’t you save me?
Oh
You know what I’ve been prayin' for (Uh, uh, uh)
And I never thought I’d see this day (Uh, uh, uh), yeah
I gotta make a change
And I think I been countin' my hardest days
Lord, won’t you save me?
Oh
You know what I’ve been prayin' for
And I never thought I’d see this day, yeah
I gotta make a change
And I think I been countin' my-
Look, time is money and the clock tickin'
I teach my son love and respect, that’s a God given (Word)
My sperm donor never been shit, just a flop
Listen, if it wasn’t for my step-pops, I’d prolly turn out different (Facts)
Probably be in a cell doin' a life sentence (Facts)
Probably have twenty baby mamas and nine bitches (Facts)
Probably grow up misguided, twisted inside the system
Dropped out and failed 'cause nobody listen to my admission (Yeah)
Sick of gettin' in fights with niggas less educated
Sick of gettin' advice from niggas who never made it (Ooh)
Sick of bein' polite to people with lesser patience
Oftentimes, I wonder where I would be if I never made it
The hatin' always comes from niggas that wish they had all your blessings or
the clout (True)
And bad vibes forever, but I’m destined on this route (Yeah)
I’m startin' to understand that shit that X was talkin' 'bout (Word)
And I think I been countin' my-
Worst thing comes to worst, I’ll fuckin' die a tragic death or some shit
And I’m not able to see out my dreams
I at least wanna know that the kids perceive my message and were able to make
something of themselves
And able to take my message and use it and turn it into somethin' positive
And to, to at least have a good life
If it ain’t black on, I’m prolly gon' use it to chop crack on
Hard white for all them hard nights I had my back on
Roach-infested carpet, tip-toe in my mother’s room
See a dresser and felt no pressure when takin' a twenty off it
Compton like a closed coffin
We walkin' to school coughin'
Often high off the gun smoke
Boston had at the front door
Cookin' class, I’m J-Hov
Rock it up on they stove
Me and my teacher goin' back and forth
Like No Name and J. Cole
You said I would never be what?
I wouldn’t amount to what?
Now you in this Trader Joe’s same lines, sayin', «Wassup?"(Oh)
Talkin' 'bout like how you like my songs, not knowin' it was me
Security had me in a headlock and I told you I couldn’t breathe
Now it’s Black Lives Matter and white letters on your shirt
Now how many black lives did you help, or did you hurt?
Did you handicap, block, push to excel or did you hinder?
Since hindsight’s twenty/twenty, I guess you don’t remember
Now you with your mixed child, havin' all these mixed feelings
But do your black husband know you tried to burn down our village?
But never mind, from the line, that’s for y’all to figure out
Just know that boy who wasn’t shit bailed all his niggas out
And it’s my black queen, I kiss her on her black lips
And she rock Off-White 'cause she support black shit
And I’m blacker than the on a Spike Lee flick
Black like the pick stuck in the afro of Kaepernick