Up top is where you’ll find me, Anne Frank, 2 friends high-fiving, the date on a piece of writing, what’s cake without the icing, but lately I’ve been fighting, the urge to re invite in, the dark don’t let no light in, the stars are not aligning
Or even when I pull out my phone to check the gram, it’s the lotion before the ram, with no Trojan I get it damn, your life’s better than mine fuck, I’m just tryin to do better for Cam, and I’m working this fucking job where the pay is a legal scam, I wana
Kill shit real shit, like I’m back on my pill shit, a walking fucking zombie psychopath in the building, like an epidural patient pushed out more than her first kid, by the baby lies a turd in other words I don’t feel shit
But I feel sick, when them bills hit, Friday morning payday hell yea collectors laughin, like you goddamn right about that it’s payday you got it backwards, then back in the ill mind with hops n weed I’m on the back roads ima
Let it go
My hungers throbbing, my son deserves the world and to give it to him I ain’t stopping, whenever we go shopping showing his mother what we got him, it’s my dream to make it seem like that bags from merry poppins
Let it go
For inner peace, it’s harder than it seems, but to be able to finally breathe, and that energy weighing down will now be buried and beneath, and the only way to dream is if you allow yourself to sleep
But attention- Jo, this your inner self in attendance I’m on parole, kuz descendants of negativity thoughts you can’t control, has me sentenced for a minute that’s why you feel no soul, but I’m here to help let go
This my only phone call I need you to listen close, I think nows the time to tell you you’re different it really shows, when you write it’s not like most it’s a gift with a fucking bow, you were sent a poison pen and it comes from the Holy Ghost so you can
Kill shit real shit, I’m addicted I’m still sick, every rapper run psychopath in the building, I’m feeling like I’m dhamer when I step in the booth just…give me a hard (heart) beat and let me eat my meal bitch
Exposing real fish, to catch a Nemo i reel quick, a bunch of fucking clowns yal my reason to kill IT, and I’d never talk this big like I’d never buy big trucks if I, wasn’t fully confident that I could back it up
And I’m packing but packing to me is my swag, and my rhymes and my bars they do the click clacking, not racist but first in the race so I’m lappin, I’m rapping with passion like cross on my back and
The thought of me crashing caused a reaction, I’m formally snapping poetry clapping, the anger inside of me pulling and dragging, my thoughts are now weapons I’m always packing
You better run fast and don’t you slip, both eyes on the ball, don’t turn too quick, but it don’t really matter, you got no grip, like bad handjob when you’re falling off a cliff
When I load that clip and I hear that click, and cock my postol hold my dick, verbal hallow tips, what my chrome spits, they only know go, they don’t know quit I’ll
And I’m learning real quick where to find my lane, where to spread my wings where to fly my plane, phlebotomy time when they speak in vein, so get a Band aid if you speak on my name
And I know my skills and I know my brain, I know what I know it’s hard to explain, and with everything to lose this might be insane, but like a mouth full of pods I would die for the gain
Let it go
At least for now, I’m high my trajectory lyrically looking down, it’s like peeking in Texas Holdem I’m all in without a doubt, kuz I’m rocking pocket olsens on the rivers my full house
Let it go
For inner peace, I know it’s harder than it seems, but to be able to finally breathe, and that energy weighing down will now be buried and beneath, and the only way to dream is if you allow yourself to sleep
