Lyrics
Sent your bitch a dick pic and now she need glasses
Turn your bitch Slick Rick right now if I flashed it
Ate a couple pills took the bud out the plastic
Flickin' bogey ashes, bitch, I stay blasted
Microphone Cassius, Magic with the sick shit
'Posed to been dead, but bitch I'm still up in this bitch
Verbal herbal poison, words I contortion
Fucked a pregnant bitch, she save money on her abortion
I feel like Billy Corgan in a church playing organ
Coverin' Too $hort, smokin' a Newport
Hurt, hoped the drugs will help the pain to go away
But all these thoughts up in my head made the sane go astray
So step inside a mind that revolves around the rhyme
And every time he close his eye, visions of white lines
Dyin' in the arms of a blonde, blue-eyed 20-something
Don't know her name, but the paramedics chest pumpin'
30-something Black male OD'ed off of pills
That he weren't prescribed, but they took his life
Let behind a daughter that don't really even know him
'Cause her momma thought he wouldn't make a living off them poems
But it was a long journey on a rocky road
Had a hoodie on and a jacket in the snow
Walkin' in the cold on the way to the studio
Nigga, that was just a couple years ago
Dropped a couple mixtapes on the net
Niggas tried to front like it wasn't all that
But guess what bitch? I'm coming back
Guess what bitch? I'm coming back
Signed to Fool's Gold, now and everything's all gnarly
Now these bitches want my number to get up in the party
Came a long way from extension cords in the window
Borrow neighbor's power just to plug up the Nintendo
Where the oven's never closed and stove's never off
Every winter so cold, niggas sleepin' wearing scarf
But I would always tell myself that it's gon' get better
You know who you is? You the greatest rapper ever
So now the pressure's on to prove that voice right
Some people never knew they goals, knew mine my whole life
So now his turns up, fixin' up to bat
Pitchin' singles to the label when I used to pitch crack
I never learned to rap, always knew how
Ever since a nigga eight, knew what I would now
When I turned 28 they like, "What you gon' do now?"
And now a nigga 30, so I don't think they heard me
That the last ten years, I been so fucking stressed
Tears in my eyes, let me get this off my chest
The thoughts of no success got a nigga chasing death
Doin' all these drugs, hope an OD ain't next, triple X
