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perplexed by dissect between supreme fact and fallacy
The illusions of immortality
Soul rising to plummet unto the horizon to escape the fact there's no dying
by the time
They radio for the dogs i crossed heart
Can't tell a bad day from a death wish
Detour through the graveyard with
A chef's kiss
They don't
dark horse every day of the week
I'm a dark horse, don't sleep
Yea

I keep it G like a treble cleft
Down like the Devil's Nest
Even complex subjects
it ain't easy 
Streets be greazy and that's each year 
Weeks year days in the endz Be bleak yeah 
Bruddahs in the back of jeep yeah 
Tinted whip can't
slip (yeah)
'Cause mad nigga's throats gettin' slit
By the mister wit the heat ta burn ya til ya blister
You punk bitch, when the funk hit, the tongue
By my voice they know who I am
They know they Ima step on all ten
Look fuck all the chat this is not that I'm not bickering
Look Ima just keep it
When she vents with no complaining
I had to cover, mad at God
She ain't Job, she had a job
Full-time time, one raising me
Seven days a week with no labor
20-20 hindsight, I guess there's more to see
My best friend invited to Hawaii for a week
Heavenly, flow of time 7 seas
Intuition initially up for catching
sister acting crazy, can't control her mouth
He jacked my brother last week and ran off with his BM
Now he wanna kill something, done turned into one
makin it happen 
Bitch check it, ya heard me 
see-Murder: 
Nigga back in the day i used to dream about fortune and fame 
Jump in the game and you
of which humans were, at that time, aware
And, perhaps most weirdly
The 7 days of the week
He really needed them all to match up

Colors, music and planets I
Coppin beats for some projects and it's platinum poppin
Coulda worked with the author he was busy shoppin
GONE FISHIN
Ghostin' my fuckin' vision
It
biggest fan
And brag about the day he lent his hand

Ref

Bru:
Who knows how long it's gonna take
It could be weeks or years to wait

A week went by and saw
Three ways I love: me, your girl, and the beat
Five days a week I talk money at least
Monkey my back I've been working to feast
From my body make bread
that shit goes up you
Drop a project that’s buns hold up
Call me denis wouldn’t want the smoke
Any day of the week your broke
Am not joking anytime I’m
the next 3 months of consistently going to the studio for 2 hours every 2 weeks
Rehearsing, and writing notes on my phone
The day Finally solidified into
but I'm a grown man, I still apologized
Even reviewed your project, you acted chill like (Awh, it's fine)
Then a couple days go by, you drop a song
Seven days a week 
Ev'ry week of the month 
And ev'ry month of the year 
He's got us making presents 
And I'm happy 

Ev'ry girl and boy 
Gets their
are so big and the gap's only growing

I think we need 10 days a week
Or maybe 30 hours a day
Stretch the year a bit
Maybe add a few more months
Bank
by
Last week saw the whales up in Halifax
Love the city but it's cold for a Cali cat
Plan to take a trip to Senegal
With me from the bottom
The wolf is to hungry and is fiening lost sheep 
Talk is to cheap when you taking great leaps  
Stayin real low grinding weeks upon weeks 
There will be
of ice in it
My three-fifty-seven pretty but ain't nothin nice in it
Too many bitches and not enough rubbers
Got so many of my real niggaz under
the same time, "Wanksta" got it's first spin
That was 32 weeks before they signed Rakim
Eight months, 13 days before I knew where Mike lived
And three years
team
Trying to show 'em the way
Know the best is incoming
Manifesting the day
Champagne is on ice
The green is aflame
Doing anything for clout
I can't

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