[Verse 1]
Finna blow up like you shooting at my gas tank
CJ on the streets, tell him go to his rap thang
I know I don’t mix with them niggas Hoo Bangin’
That would be like Bad Brains collabing with Mack Maine
Pulling on the pistol with a grip of your dad’s slang
Riding in the black train, no that ain’t a bad thing
Junkies in the alley with the baseball bat
Lay you flat on your back with the ease of a backswing
All these niggas in Diego like to point out I ain’t typical
They grew up in the 'burb and they don’t know that life is difficult
Melting in a pot so they never had an idol
Tumblr is becoming their manual to survival
Never knew comfort, I knew tough work
Never pushed a Benz, ‘cause music come first
Your image what I should be, is not what I could be
Talking ‘bout race, man I wish a nigga would
Say I don’t act black, and you afraid of the hood
And you talk a lot of shit when a nigga act good
How we ‘post to step up, you putting us down
Best check yourself, before you look like a clown
‘Cause living like this is bad for your health
[Verse 2]
Yeah I live in the 'burb, but I’m not understood
If I was bored like you then I would probably read a book
You looking real shook, far from a crook
A nigga with a hook will leave you right where you stood
Not Right Where U Stand, for the life of you man
When pen and the pad is like a knife in my hand
Shout outs to Guru, Shout outs to Guru
Spend all yo time drinking Yoohoos on YouTube
Kick it with the homies and they ain’t doing nothing
If I stayed home I could’ve probably done something
Working on the flow but instead I’m out kicking it
San Diego living ain’t the way I’ma be living it
I love SD, but I don’t need to relax
Nik B’s in the trap, he releasing a track
Putting me on the map, when I speak in a fact
I beam and I flash, making dreams off a rap
Finna blow up like you shooting at my gas tank
CJ on the streets, tell him go to his rap thang
I know I don’t mix with them niggas Hoo Bangin’
That would be like Bad Brains collabing with Mack Maine
Pulling on the pistol with a grip of your dad’s slang
Riding in the black train, no that ain’t a bad thing
Junkies in the alley with the baseball bat
Lay you flat on your back with the ease of a backswing
All these niggas in Diego like to point out I ain’t typical
They grew up in the 'burb and they don’t know that life is difficult
Melting in a pot so they never had an idol
Tumblr is becoming their manual to survival
Never knew comfort, I knew tough work
Never pushed a Benz, ‘cause music come first
Your image what I should be, is not what I could be
Talking ‘bout race, man I wish a nigga would
Say I don’t act black, and you afraid of the hood
And you talk a lot of shit when a nigga act good
How we ‘post to step up, you putting us down
Best check yourself, before you look like a clown
‘Cause living like this is bad for your health
[Verse 2]
Yeah I live in the 'burb, but I’m not understood
If I was bored like you then I would probably read a book
You looking real shook, far from a crook
A nigga with a hook will leave you right where you stood
Not Right Where U Stand, for the life of you man
When pen and the pad is like a knife in my hand
Shout outs to Guru, Shout outs to Guru
Spend all yo time drinking Yoohoos on YouTube
Kick it with the homies and they ain’t doing nothing
If I stayed home I could’ve probably done something
Working on the flow but instead I’m out kicking it
San Diego living ain’t the way I’ma be living it
I love SD, but I don’t need to relax
Nik B’s in the trap, he releasing a track
Putting me on the map, when I speak in a fact
I beam and I flash, making dreams off a rap
( Nik Bates )
www.ChordsAZ.com