[Intro: 1080PALE - Poetry Pt. II] Baby [?] (Ay Tweeko mixed this you know, it sounds cold) [Verse 1: JRDN] Look Three wings, fillet burger and a side of chips Bad for my system but it kinda helps me reminisce And Bossman's known the kid since I was a kid I walk in the shop, he can barely recognise who it is Cah my eyes aren't as wide as they used to be And my smiles got more heavy with less teeth I'm much better than these rappers under scrutiny The line between talent and clout is getting harder to see You ever read somеthing good and then lose your trace And now you'rе wasting time flipping back to find the page That's how I feel taking strolls down memory lane Walking back 10 years and still staying trapped in place It's like, I'm within a simulation Tryna guess different outcomes, predict situations Playing on my mental, my contemplations The hate in everyone's heart is becoming an expectation Your bird is a parakeet, she chats to me, you hate rap tactically Listen to that drill to try and live out all your fantasies Always thought money would come by giving clarity The only check I got was from reality Sat navigating my thoughts just to address it Started off on the wrong foot no wonder you're overstepping Try and keep me posted but never get the message But I'm of a different class so I guess I can't learn that lesson We're in the same race but you're neck and neck with my afterimage And I don't do that shit because I'm after image I can't call you my blood if you never push my limits And I don't think I have a limit I'll see when I'm finished I am the bar, I am the level I'm bass but I need a little treble I need balance in my life before I push the peddles I need to climb up to the podium to take my medal [Verse 2: 26Dexter] Like if you love me better let me know And if you're hating better let it go See me the next episode I'm over special and I bet it shows I write a 6 and then I get him ghost Parker stroke beretta blows I felt a fettish for some feta folds My style is heaven sent it come like medicine and you can get a dose These rappers can't cat it's dexter, the Rosetta stone I'm Champollion Lemme show you bout these letters bro Your car full of fake friends Mothers with my brothers I break bread Our father art in these bait ends Steady on the graft and he made ten But you're on your arse say you hate stress These brothers need to get a life You make a rack Take a quarter, set the rest aside And give a bills to your mum so she can see that her son is steady getting it done He's ready to energise They done me dirty but I let it slide Man I'm dexter, I'm from the hill, tryna run up a mill Tryna escape the ghetto The claws are pulling me still Writing bars by the window I'm tryna capture the thrill Crimson spill on the pave and the mothers cry in the field But them drillers wouldn't tell you that He had ambition, it was lack of drive that held him back I'm writing scriptures man I ain't just tryna sell you raps If you look hungry then these kids will try to sell you crack Yo darlin', I'll bell you back I'm just tryna hit my targets I'm on the train I got a monkey folded in my RRIPZ My coworker thinks I've lost my head I'm always talking under my breath I'm tryna tell her that I'm only barring Now we're laughing but there ain't shit funny Go hard and graft and make this money I wrote bars they're hard I ain't been gully But they're begging me still to tell my story so I let it reveal Uh, yeah
Read the complete lyrics to "Imperfect" by JRDN (CAN) in 2022. On Lyrks you can follow along with the full text, explore the artist's discography, and discover related songs. The track is often categorized under Rap, UK Rap.
"Imperfect" is performed by JRDN (CAN). in 2022 This page provides the full lyric text for fans who want to sing along, study the songwriting, or compare versions across releases. Lyrks organizes lyrics by artist and song slug so you can bookmark and share a stable URL.
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