1. |
Petty Change
02:12
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PETTY CHANGE HAVE MY POCKETS REARAAANGED
SINCE
I WAS DOWN TO RIDE IT AINT BEEN THE SAAAME
SHIT’S
LIKE A QUARTER TILL THE CALL MY DAYYY
SPLITS
RIP THE FACE OFF MY FACE
WORK CASE BY CASE
FOR THE LOVE OF THE GAME, NOT LOVE OF THE CHASE
LOVE OF THE BAG, BITCH, LOVE OF MY WAGE
LOVE OF THE WORK?
NAH LOVE OF THE PAPER
LOVE OF THE CASH
BITCH, LEVEL MY WAGE
BITCH, LEVEL MY WAGE
BITCH, LOVE OF MY WAGE
BITCH, LOVE OF MY WAGE
Flexing a 9-5 when really it’s the day to day
So been mumbling for a while “If I had it my way…”
Goes without saying, shit ain’t changed
And these days I’m more engaged as a cynic
Make a full pivot towards a gimmick and rehab so called living
So called heathens living in this apocalypse count when the timing switch
Bitch on that pulpit like Drake spitting like T.D. Jakes
N when you put it like that, I get the hate
Purple Haze…
I still ain’t check the album but the sentiment match the outcome
Malcolm minus the middle child, he been spitting for a while
But now it’s like a, step rearranged from hunger games
He said, it’s two ways to reengage when it’s time to survive
Im just a step past 9 and if I’m lying I’m dying
Said the same shit when I was crying on her line
Signed “the only nigga you know,” this close to the sun
Never came with a gun, just posted for minimal funds
Bad outcomes just the sum of what hopefully waits for us
I’m just taking laps around lust, and trust, you can’t talk a nigga off angel dust
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2. |
And Still...
02:04
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Niggas take everything…
Take…
Just give me something
Just give me something
Or you gon take everything?
Just give me something
Take with no give backs, gripped love like a strap
That’s the feeling of your violence in a bottle
Coddled with no ulterior motto, just a crude type discussion
Knew the crew wouldn’t love it but still, making motion in lieu of blunt percussion
Persistence is on the tongue of a witness, knew I ain’t pass on the litmus
But still- felt legit in the moment, with skills that needed a toning
Tuned the beat till the vocals was spilling out of my focal
Dimmed the lights holding tight with my fear in mind
Peer the blinds with a deficit, leading niggas wear records is
Scratching lines under my skin, tend to know I begin a trend
An in was just a set up with meanings that people fed us
I’m working hard but hardly feel I’m making shit work
Pinch me out of the dirt, or dunk me under
I’ll make it out of this blunder for the fiftieth time
While I persistently rhyme till I forget it and spit it a week later
Like “nigga, I’ll always make you,” erase you from off this Earth
And promise to keep it terse, AND STILL
Still feel it a week later, I set you at the table
If able I ask “which flavor you cater?”
Am I to hate if I don’t like your croissants?
It’s been a hell of a month, and I’m not feeling more valid
Is it a ballad if I’m keeping it calm, it’s in the palm of my hand
Shaped like the state of my mind, don’t really like the design
But it’s creative, wouldn’t mind if you take it
Cmon, take it
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