Tuesdae

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The Dark Tournament

4:11

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I'm just smoking by myself for real
But I don't mind cause I still got drink to spill
I'm sorry I ain't talking much but I still got hands to deal
That nigga too hot that boy too cold, that man got bills to pay
Wait, moving out the way, sorry for the wait
I know I made you mad just to pass you a plate
No play for a nigga that loved you today
That soul get cold like feet on a stage
You rock that gold but you made that way
You hate my talk but you love my say
That soul get cold like feet on a stage
You rock that gold but you made that way
You hate my talk but you love my say
I know these women kinda choosey
She said she love me on a Tuesday
But went and left me on Tuesday
Good man what would you say
Rudeboy on the playlist
You needed me but you played this
50 cent up on my dresser
Go get a loosie
I know you mad so let's get a groupie
Rubbing off you, girl you rubbing off me
I need a drink when I'm preaching my piece
Roll me a blunt break a piece of that weed
It's getting tricky we fucking all week
No I ain't tricking she spinning on me
I just been living and working this beast
Party at ten and I don't wanna leave
Drinking too much left some dirt in the leaf
Bro in Japan left some pack in the trap
Hope that he come with that Shibuya bag
Spitting that fire like shisui back
Niggas still hating about shit that we had
My homie Matt send me a beat from all across the atlas
I’m cut from different cloth, got different fashion
I lost the spark with my last girl we couldn’t find the matches
No I’m not sad about it, f*ck it, I’m just sad on average
Hoes up in my hostel, kids these days they follow followers like some apostles
Jesus not concerned
Got demons on the way, roll a j
I face the twisted earth
No I’m not saving face
Superman ain’t save my day
Even with the fienin f*ck if I know why these lights on in the evening
Demons followin where I go
Body like a vase, why her head is lookin hollow
Hollow minded people shallow
You a kitty pool, I'm that, Philly boul I got shit to do, so
Don't hit me on my tele line, I dont really tell no time
For these people they some pocket-reachers see through
They'll feed you to the wolves, no one ever really need you
Life is stressful, we got forests full of people damn, damn
Demons on the way
I ain't stressin I won't fret about it
People actin fake
I ain't stressin I won't fret about it
My bill collector pay
I ain't stressin I won't fret about it
Don't stress about it
Just get up out it
Demons on the way
I ain't stressin I won't fret about it
People actin fake
I ain't stressin I won't fret about it
Bill collector pay
I ain't stressin I won't fret about it
Don't stress about it
Just get up out it
Demons in my backyard
Don't let my dog out
And it'll all be good
Had a fallout
With my mental hell
Cuz there's dogbones in the dog pound
Mushrooms in my carryon
God I hope I can carry on
Cuz I hit the blunt, gasin my pedal till I hit the wall wall
Say she leave me on Tuesday
No wonder why Tuesday so gloomy
She be lookin kinda so-so so
She beggin me smoothly
I'm grabbin that booty
Then I flick like a movie
Oh what my ego do to me

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