Lyrics:
the kind of pain that
I wish this pain, would go away
Just gets all up in your heart, and in your soul
I wish this pain, would go away
The kind of pain
Trackateering Music
Man, y'all did it with this one here, y'all
People love to use that quote
"I'm doin' it for the culture"
But what culture is that
you pay for it with your youth
That's why I'm potent with every batch that I whip
Cats say you ain't make it by thirty then you should give up
I just
what The Matrix wants you to be, a they/them, emo, goth, transgender, fat-
We're lost, in a world of just fog and diminishment
Kind of madness here,
over little tweaks nobody gon' notice but me
Just to put an album out and nobody notice but me
I ain't even been posting these days cause why
When you
half a Vicodin, why can't I?
All systems ready for take off, please stand by
Sometimes I feel so alone, I just don't know
Feels like I been down
badly needs that can wiat
(wi-at? That's a new English
Word which means wait)
I've been waiting for some reaction
To the album from American
Listeners
And scrolling thru the role he's bound by letting truth be told we out
To make a difference
In a day age where hate is senseless
No one's tryna catch a fade they
I'm that guy
You already know I don't got to say why
Ya'll don't eat pussy but to me it tastes fine
Let it grow on you little boy it takes time
Real love don't have an image
Not magic witness by havin’
Bitches or grabbin' riches
If it's about your own self-validation
You’re bound to fail
a few songs now I'm laying in bed and
All I can think is how my brain is shredded, hearing my album is something you've dreaded
Like Proof at The Shelter,
That's why y'all been waitin' so long
For my next album it's been year long
So when it hits it'll be strong
No more waitin' it's been too long
8 Track
ain't got to get all extremely too personal on your albums
When you not surrounded by bigger artists to fucking boost you
Nigga you called me, I didn't
on (come on)
I'm talking to you, come on the Working Hour
This is the working hour
We are paid by those who
Learn by our mistakes
This is the working hour
a radio hushed nearly
To silence the adults hovered around
Listening to a song and I asked
Why one song had to be
Played at a whisper while another
Could
Why not when I'm feeling like a winner
Call me Dillon Brooks
But wait I actually deliver
Let me know when you drop 40
By then I'll be pushin' 40
Maybe
the days, I knew rap would never die
I used to listen to Awesome-2 on WHBI
I used to hear all kind of rap groups before sampling loops
Rappers wore
[Master P talking]
G man, why don't you go on, pass the dank
Let's take a lil' break ya know whatb I'm sayin'
Before we finish this album up
they take the album
Take it home and start sweating
Why? Well, it's simple
To them it's kind of vital
To take KRS-One's title
To them I'm like an idol,
The prophecy was true
So let me recite it
Gave to the game all my brilliance, and that's why I'll be stacking my millions
With this flow, it can get kind
wordplay, when 16 ain't enough, exactly what life means to you
16 ain't enough
I know y'all gonna feel me on this one
You gotta feel me on this one
Huh,
bring? Nothin' but pain and one in your fuckin' brain
Ain't nothin' changed since the album, I'm still wildin'
I'm still violent I've been waitin' for
(Ludacris) Verse 1
I just touched down in killa Cali,
Strapped up my boots,
Got scooped up by Game,
So I hopped up in the coupe,
Gaah, What up
made 'for you by you'
Every hip-hop nigga listen and wishing he had your style
To go against you if you rip him and pass him by (yeah)
A mastermind is
.jpg/200px-Conor_Oberst-17_(49297158641).jpg "Conor Oberst and the Mystic Valley Band")
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