conflicted
Jordan Cortez
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Jump, jump, jump, jump, jump, jump I don't see myself keeping it college, i'ma be honest (yeah) I'm too addicted to commas I'm too conflicted with options I got so much on my mind, which I'd rather not try converse I'm just tryna write shit Walking through sediment times to force a footstep out the dirt And tireless nights I parked the pickup and lawn cared the Crowne Plaza prolly ponderin' how I could (What is Jordan doing?! Ooh) Hyphen, y'all niggas telling tales taller than Tyvin Stretching shit, I've seen the hell of it I'll reign forever, whether or not heaven hit F*ck all the politics, cops, and astronomers Pissy since they can't law a star that fell on them, dawg I'm tryna look good, not feel good I'd burn myself out for five million (five million) My girl said I'm stressed out and I can feel it (can feel it) I'm tryna see a show sell out attendance And still somehow send my momma a ticket (ticket) I'm peepin' it now My vision more revealing without crowds Of people thinking they make noise, and just loud I know the family proud of Cortez, so f*ck every coach Attached to the people I love, I'm ducking the average, doing the most, bitch I'm finally back outside, and I don't see y'all ass or shit that you spoke, bitch That's my fault for believing talk isn't cheap when niggas is (heal me) Yeah (save me) Law of fucking averages (sanctify me) Turn me up (set me free) I done asked God one too many times for forgiveness F*ck it, the black coupe is tinted I'm pushing past 65 on Old Chatham Road By where the ops stay like I don't pay taxes and loans But chilling as if I was home Heart growing icy and I can't spread salt in the snow So f*ck it, I'm logged off a phone Ain't talking in cells like I'm off of parole I vividly, picture memories of middle school Spitting at lunch tables burgundy, perched under trees I'm workin' now and all I see is these verses When I blink a pen, it ain't puffing weed Don't get F'd up since you ain't get the lesson 'Cause you real desperate just to teach, bitch I promise it ain't that deep, if I hit rock bottom I just dug too deep, bitch Nah, my cousin in spirit, I wanted to die And I would fake my death, but now I'm too alive Two hundred pile the party from outside Milwaukee taught a nigga to survive The 'field where niggas keep a drac' but don't josh This isn't comedy, get yo ass shot Tryna keep count who beside me became its own hobby I'm tryna buy me, six, seven, eight whips for family If he try to skate, make him flip, hit an ollie I'm hawking the snakes in they own grass, own body Man, my pops said "fake niggas ain't real sporadic" Just look around, it's pop culture utopia Pop on IG, but I know that you timid bruh Old bitches tryna text but they minutes up F*ck 'em, they dead to me, no necrophilia Nasty Cortez, the flow is erect My manager told me "Get dressed, quit falling asleep at the desk" Eyes closed in class, you niggas thought you had drive, but who really attract with checks? Who really walking around with the torch Touching it straight to they mufuckin necks? Sophomore year was a God given test Had to show Him that I'm coming correct Niggas loading Macs but shooting through Windows A new woman widowed, a new nigga dead Nothing ain't new nigga, who gon' be next? How can I breathe for the ones with no breath? How can I take my momma out of stress? Putting in reps, it's natural to flex I'm putting in reps, I'm back with a flex I'm putting in reps, it's natural to (flex)
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"conflicted Lyrics." Lyrics.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 28 Apr. 2024. <https://www.lyrics.com/lyric-lf/9113469/Jordan+Cortez/conflicted>.
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