[Verse 1]
This for my college kids who wake up early just to get it in
Coffee with cinnamon everydays the same like a synonym
Ain’t no fucking jobs you thinking “Why I pay tuition then?”
Young musician who never thought he had it in him to make it big
So his dreams became a fallback
Hit up a couple hip hop heads, left a message, they never called back
Thought “shit they probably busy”
Right around the same time lil homey left L.A. for a new city
Something more scenic, college over in Phoenix
Still doing music on weekends because it’s all that he believed in
Dropped his first mixtape and called it “Parking Lot Dreamin’”
Cause his dreams manifested on that black tar cement
See, he was shy as fuck
Butterflies first show, blunts burn as the crowd began to light em up
Reciting all his lines backstage “Ayo Matt you up”
Well here goes nothing, huh?
Rest of my life begun..
[Hook]
Cigar Smoke
Aphrodesiacs
They ask me, “really, how you feeling Matt?”
Tell em I’m doing better than fine
Remember back in ’09 where no one gave me the time?
Now it’s little bit of that love that I’ve been fiending for
A little change in my pocket I’m never seeing poor
Cause I done seen that 100 times in my lifetime
And like I said in ‘Parking Lot Dreamin’
Bitch, this is ‘My Time’
This for my people in the streets still holding me down
Everytime I come around you be fucking with my sound
Every song I know you feel it more
Used to kick it right off Sycamore spittin by liquor stores before I dreamt of tour
Now it’s more than a dream
Now I’m owning the league
A step up from those nosebleeds back when nobody ever noticed me
But recognition is something that I don’t care about
You think that’s my motivation while grubbing on this carryout
Spending hours on Sunset my verses I let em air em out
Rappers they getting scared about the kid they never heard about
It’s ironic college I was taking that better route
Few years later on instrumentals I’m committing murder now
Guess that was God’s plan
Guess I’m just God’s man
My drive ain’t never left me, guess it’s like my right hand
I’d rather die as I’m standing than live on my knees
I just hope that when I die I see heaven and not degrees, you feel me?
[Hook]
This for my college kids who wake up early just to get it in
Coffee with cinnamon everydays the same like a synonym
Ain’t no fucking jobs you thinking “Why I pay tuition then?”
Young musician who never thought he had it in him to make it big
So his dreams became a fallback
Hit up a couple hip hop heads, left a message, they never called back
Thought “shit they probably busy”
Right around the same time lil homey left L.A. for a new city
Something more scenic, college over in Phoenix
Still doing music on weekends because it’s all that he believed in
Dropped his first mixtape and called it “Parking Lot Dreamin’”
Cause his dreams manifested on that black tar cement
See, he was shy as fuck
Butterflies first show, blunts burn as the crowd began to light em up
Reciting all his lines backstage “Ayo Matt you up”
Well here goes nothing, huh?
Rest of my life begun..
[Hook]
Cigar Smoke
Aphrodesiacs
They ask me, “really, how you feeling Matt?”
Tell em I’m doing better than fine
Remember back in ’09 where no one gave me the time?
Now it’s little bit of that love that I’ve been fiending for
A little change in my pocket I’m never seeing poor
Cause I done seen that 100 times in my lifetime
And like I said in ‘Parking Lot Dreamin’
Bitch, this is ‘My Time’
This for my people in the streets still holding me down
Everytime I come around you be fucking with my sound
Every song I know you feel it more
Used to kick it right off Sycamore spittin by liquor stores before I dreamt of tour
Now it’s more than a dream
Now I’m owning the league
A step up from those nosebleeds back when nobody ever noticed me
But recognition is something that I don’t care about
You think that’s my motivation while grubbing on this carryout
Spending hours on Sunset my verses I let em air em out
Rappers they getting scared about the kid they never heard about
It’s ironic college I was taking that better route
Few years later on instrumentals I’m committing murder now
Guess that was God’s plan
Guess I’m just God’s man
My drive ain’t never left me, guess it’s like my right hand
I’d rather die as I’m standing than live on my knees
I just hope that when I die I see heaven and not degrees, you feel me?
[Hook]
( Matt Andujo )
www.ChordsAZ.com