It took the pressure running this course
Pawned the family goat for some months to ride on the iron horse
Disregarded my reality to cling to the gospel God spoke
For Sway to say "Come through"
Now I'm here, the condom broke
See these is pro method scenes
No activist
Stopped leanin on n***as since Tony Hawk was on Activision
Foresight with no execution is just a hallucination
Why have dreams if you ain't gon' act the vision
So I tatted my hands for the motivation
These corporations ain't shit, fuck a day shift
Ay bitch
This sad song too potent for seasonal wages
I payed for showcases off unemployment compensation
Facts
Built a 400 on 4 then rolled my second home
My resume ain't get it, retain information
Going forth, daily planet
Same n***as I seen at my lowest, lane switchin
Facts
I decided to ascend
They digress to being fly
But still I hold kryptonite with them same fingers
That I used to take frames off
I seen red flags on blocks they crypt on
These blues too cryptic
But if I fall off my high horse they still will cheer
For this Christopher Reeves, revealing pain in him
Operating system been that ios to win
Now my Macintosh are from different gardens
These Jobs pay different
Rest In peace
I've seen a victory lap
Learning to see silver lining
Through the Clouds
Lauren London my grind and fell in love with the Hussle
A marathon through back blocks
Found God off the scenic route
Second Eviction
Condo rappers and Bible scriptures
Hit the weed, saw Satan
Old hoes I hit up
Blocked more times than monthly messages ain't get delivered
Fell victim, to a lot of angles, a lot of filters
A lot of secrets I second guess about telling dudes
Set trip in the inbox
Aware that they left me read and blue
Deliberated dismembering those degenerates
Going Criss Angel on hoes that knows I'm heaven sent
Twenty One, caught chlamydia from a bird
And I ain't let my wood peck her ever since (Sway)
I wasn't getting no ass at all
Now they on my balls to see how far the pendulum swings
Look
I been through a whole lot of shit
I maneuver through manure for a grip (now n***a)
Almost lost the message tryna craft the hitch (my n***a)
Petrified of what this wave may bring
There's two types of boats
And I was told you gotta choose one
It's album sales or relationships (my n***a)
Or
You could do both
If you got the strength to backstroke with that wooden panel till you sore
I'm tired, of these titles that woke, streaming us dry
But I'll rock with it till the waves subside
Or till they see the Hova that resides in every line I hold anon
That's a flagrant on Ray John
Disrespect my stripes, got a tech in sight your mind
Blow the whistle
N***as too short to see eye to eye with divinity that resides
Inside of Os, where the ratchet and righteous, through intertwine
I'm the perfect marriage of humanism and God (look)
Channeled the holy ghost on my own
That's Oprah Winfrey network
And Oprah Winfrey's net worth is found inside every line that I scribe
As I'm dancing with devils, now techniques immortalized (still up)
Painted flows; blueprints
Tryna beat it clueless
Thought Terrence was Lucious
Young O was studying Hov , no disc jockey dashing
Moving clueless
An overwhelmed, undeveloped student
Pursuing music
Still in motion like a running man but son was the son of Sam, I was murdering any beat that I see n***a
Raising the bar
Bench pressing my pens message
They see Sunday, know it's the end of them weak n***as (woah)
Let that sink in
I'm consucked in these euphemisms for you to listen
I use the truth to expose the gimmicks, imploded village with villainous sinning Christians
Double crossing God like two Nazarenes in the crucifixion
Before the locks couldn't get the P or a kiss for nothing
When I would kill a mic at every show and
See low green and big boy would dream to get his family out the dungeon
Make n***as look up to the balls on some bottom bunk shit (look)
A back slaughter with the soul of Michael
I gave 'em the feel without a single Jackson
I gave 'em beauty in the midst of the struggle
I gave 'em started with feet planted still on the planet
Gave them Oswin when I was losing myself
Even when I lied to the hoes, still stayed true to myself
Mamma called me a pioneer back when Tyson was biting ears
Went to church for that holy feels
She knew my soul needed health
She knew America's focus on the exterior designs
Put a filter on everything for the sake of a like
We so worried about the loan we ain't even fixing the lights
We so worried about this war we ain't even fixing the pipes
Look, I ain't political
I'm just a God with a sinner's view
Ridicule for how the spirit move
You ever seen a survivor through a Robin Williams type of depression?
Well this dead poet is living proof
I did my dirt on the come up though
A Doug trio skeeted, left mayonnaise on some paddies
A Doug trio
All upset by they ways
Knowin they take off broads for amigos
That's when I Takeoff like a Migos
Then say to any lil n***a
Tryna politic and build any
"Get da V though"
I been the type of Yano to speak life to a Viggo
Paint a picture so real, no way it don't touch the people
I remember, getting suspended in 7th grade
For indecent exposure, I couldn't care at all
So showing my ass ain't nothing new to me
Pause I ain't gotta problem, bearing it all
Fake jerseys, fake Pradas, wore more
Washed and dried them [?] and all the letters came off
But now, (uh) I gon' fly fly
Maggot mind with a Jones fly
Cross my fingers, praying you clones die when I closed eyes (Oh my)
This that student loan flow without the co-sign
Clothespins hanging, eyes eye polos on clothes lines
11th I the minute 10th I the maximum close line
Layin' with payments for people proxy before the snow time
Peep tho— [Mic breaks] [?]
[Mic is fixed]—if Imma pray and the rain'll stop falling
In the kitchen, before the flow dry
Stop a shawty, says Kirk Franklin, look like ol' Plies
Life was gentle that K-Dot—[Switches Headphones]
Damn right, Damn right
He back at it
A reincar—reek havok that genius that reads backwards
All that sodium y'all throwing on my podium potent enough to live on the surface of saltine crackers
How you survive in an industry full of posers and meat jackers
I usherin my sound and let that heat clap him
I too caught with that round of applause
That's what happens when you fire, and you this raw, my form
A little too much straight c, I be wildin
The type of n***a to black out on the Ku Klux from the hood
Where overpriced sativ will leave you buried for good
Genocide and Cognac and Backwoods, this year
I ain't no better
After this I might go cop a little bottle or whatever
This is Brownsville meets Selma
Righteous as monogamy
With a lil' infidelity in my placenta
That balance you can't get rid of (uh)
And would God be in my anchor
Man this Bruce Almighty'll carry substance through all your feelings I'm to good
And like a white author in '42 with a tight noose
I don't feel right hangin' with n***as
More concerned with a perfect facade, than a flawed picture
See every masterpiece has its blemishes, Mona Lisa
Painters fool us but we ain't stupid
There's a difference from lack of knowledge, and not having that access to it
Cause look
What they we about us, and what they know about ourselves
It never falls in the lines of being congruent
The closer we get to learning our truth 'bout our regality and reality
They turn us to casualties, then remove it (nah)
Display a portion in books, then dilute it
Make every attempt to decline every incline movement
Follow a Western-European rendition of Jesus
With an oval office that walks in the steps of Judas
Told salvation but taught to raise us with bruises
The hammer used to crucify us has been the gavel
We took those chains and pedaled with pure will to survive in a bar you set that we can't handle
Peep the cycle
The psycho-logical, damage that's been done
Due to this narrative, It's a scary one (uh)
But it's genius
Fuckers was so in fear of us
They found a way to make us inferior
Taking lions out of the jungle
Labeling them a threat, in environments you designed to be ruptured
Environments you designed to be ruptured
But until my lions learn how to write from their own perspectives
Every story read will be glorifying the hunter (look)
To be honest, I might not read the comments
I know they wanted that ruthless Oswin, no less
But instead I'm Holly Holmes to those heads
Ronda neck, stepped on platforms to kick knowledge
And still I'm fly enough to make any woman's esophagus
A landing strip for my cockpit
Look, ya'll ain't worthy, ya'll Fergie
Singing fake anthems in the wrong (Francis Scott) Key
I try to tune ya'll out with that fuckery
Now, fuck it tell 'em shut up
The '02 Black Eyed Peas
I'm more Guyanese than male [?]
I pick locks to basements but we'll keep that low-key
The same shottas that roll flower will roll up on you and clap a n***a like the proper way to make roti boy
That's some culture for your ass
How you plan to build a monumental future, on the sculptures of your past
What you gon' stand outside forever?
Reminiscing on the ones you assisted
Personifying stocked up sculpture of your past
Talking all of that jazz
But you couldn't hold a band
If it grew legs and hopped into your Han-cock
Herbie black Beatle, I'm McCartney in a flat top
Dancin' in the buggy with my Miles and Davis headin' to heaven ain't this
Some shit
Godfrey on the way
Now you Mother f⁠— Teresas ain't got nothin' to say now
The tale is told
The tail of this hail is old
Ironically grew by dreading this growth
But I'm here now
Low self esteem somethin' like macchiato
But I've grown to a man, bare hand for the bear down
I'm claimed like accessories, who I am now?
The son of man and the son of God
I'm Uncle Sam's nephew with a credit score lower than eyelids from my kin that get high all of the time trying to get to Zion
The nappy headed know that Don Imus
I recite shit to rearrange the climate
Section 8 ConEd built
Fuck the Po-light shit, I write shit I think is the right shit
And I admit, since the accolades that I ain't been hittin'
I've gotten way to serious
Homicide cypher's they say I'm way too serious
From satellite radio to those TV appearances
Judged on Sway cause of my lifetime sentences
Unaware of the gold inside the dock in my penmanship
And they don't get this shit, they all got a problem
They don't see how ya'll gravitating to Oswin
From Ogden to Austin, the text just sent
To my inbox calling
Me the best without a label or album
How could
One with a gun charge
And one in the dean's list hear my shit and love still be the outcome? (God)
See ain't a track that can't get out run
Boy, I'm Jesse Owen's with the souls
And fingers wave at him here
Cause ain't a style that can't get outdone
See there was God, there was Moses, then it's me
But I split a different sea when palms put to the Rod-man
No bull shittng, no bull penning
I hit home when I touch bases
No tobacco, just truth spittin'
'Till there's no sin stop pulpitin'
The Keith Haring's been deaf to the doubt
Paint a "Mural" so dope
"Pen and Needle" Lupe'll smile
SOSA I.T
Black thought blacked out and inspired me
Condolences if you followed behind me
R.I.P. Nipsey and those casualties
In and outta rap
And I know it may sound cheesy but rest easy Mac
They don't pray for us they prey on us
They scream rest in power then give power to vices that dig the grave for us
All those memorials and murals is cool
From ya'll n***as sleep
But when you gon' find the Gump-tion to wait for us
Don't wait, until the wake, to pray for us
Don't wait until Jesus walks, to Ye for us
Clap for me an encore before I become I'm part of the funeral parlor decor
Let me smell the rose
And let your praise be the praise I redirect to Messiah before he take me home