(Verse 1)
I’m just tired of doin music that don’t mean shit
Either my heart ain’t in it or there’s no aggression
So you could say this is a useless session and I’m not tryna waste anyone’s time
I just wish that I didn’t fuckin suck at the rhyme like chicks who blow, pass out, and leave lines like I rhymes on paper
Collectin' up dust
May as well be the rust kuz I know they was gold
Yea and you just prayin I fold but I will never lapse when I’m writin' all these raps
Or in the alley bussin' tre five seven, collectin' fives, tens, and third eye lessons
Yea so just keep the engine revin'
We kick it like Tekken, Marshall Law’s in effect but we still sip gin
And my momma said that “her baby gon win” because intelligent wordplay
Well, god damn, what the fuck did the curb say?
Kids watch out kuz them corners mournin' us
Wake up for mornings but never live to see the night
You just fightin' for your right, I’m tryna get my weight up kuz I know I gotta fight
Goddamn, I know I gotta fight
Imma little nigga, I stand 5’2”
That don’t mean that I won’t fight you just need pen, paper, and somethin to write to
A kid who wish his voice was deeper
Yea, I’ll prolly you in a sleeper
Standin' in the kitchen just prayin' that you listen
Granny, Momma, just prayin' that you listen
And I’m just prayin' that you listen
Brothers, sisters, please listen
Dad, please listen
Please fuckin listen
(Hook)
Ay so fill yo cup to the brim (ay, ay)
Kuz his chances mighty slim
Just a kid wit dreams and ambition
He got heart, he on a mission
Ay so full yo cup to the brim
Kuz his chances mighty slim
Dreams and ambitions
He just a kid out onna mission
(Verse 2)
Sister makin money back of Cadillacs
Big brother writin' ratchet tracks
But where the soul, nigga?
Keep my body whole and my mind open
And my heart flowin' and I’m on the block and we stay floatin'
Wit the oatmeal, heat it up in the kitchen
Prayin' that you fuckin listen when I write rhymes (yea, when I write rhymes)
And I’m goin hard like a motherfuckin' Spartan
Niggas in the back like a phone, know I’m chargin'
Red flag, I’m comin like a bull
Yea, the clip loaded so it’s full
I’m just a little nigga, 5’2”
And a lil nigga who’ll fight you
And I got bars for days but I ain’t gon use em kuz you niggas in a daze
(Hook)
Ay so fill yo cup to the brim
Kuz his chances mighty slim (ay, ay)
So fill yo cup to the brim (ay)
So fill yo cup to the brim
Just a kid wit dreams and ambitions
He got heart, he on a mission
Ay, he on a mission
Ay, he on a mission
Ay, he on a mission
Ay, he on a mission
Mission
I’m just tired of doin music that don’t mean shit
Either my heart ain’t in it or there’s no aggression
So you could say this is a useless session and I’m not tryna waste anyone’s time
I just wish that I didn’t fuckin suck at the rhyme like chicks who blow, pass out, and leave lines like I rhymes on paper
Collectin' up dust
May as well be the rust kuz I know they was gold
Yea and you just prayin I fold but I will never lapse when I’m writin' all these raps
Or in the alley bussin' tre five seven, collectin' fives, tens, and third eye lessons
Yea so just keep the engine revin'
We kick it like Tekken, Marshall Law’s in effect but we still sip gin
And my momma said that “her baby gon win” because intelligent wordplay
Well, god damn, what the fuck did the curb say?
Kids watch out kuz them corners mournin' us
Wake up for mornings but never live to see the night
You just fightin' for your right, I’m tryna get my weight up kuz I know I gotta fight
Goddamn, I know I gotta fight
Imma little nigga, I stand 5’2”
That don’t mean that I won’t fight you just need pen, paper, and somethin to write to
A kid who wish his voice was deeper
Yea, I’ll prolly you in a sleeper
Standin' in the kitchen just prayin' that you listen
Granny, Momma, just prayin' that you listen
And I’m just prayin' that you listen
Brothers, sisters, please listen
Dad, please listen
Please fuckin listen
(Hook)
Ay so fill yo cup to the brim (ay, ay)
Kuz his chances mighty slim
Just a kid wit dreams and ambition
He got heart, he on a mission
Ay so full yo cup to the brim
Kuz his chances mighty slim
Dreams and ambitions
He just a kid out onna mission
(Verse 2)
Sister makin money back of Cadillacs
Big brother writin' ratchet tracks
But where the soul, nigga?
Keep my body whole and my mind open
And my heart flowin' and I’m on the block and we stay floatin'
Wit the oatmeal, heat it up in the kitchen
Prayin' that you fuckin listen when I write rhymes (yea, when I write rhymes)
And I’m goin hard like a motherfuckin' Spartan
Niggas in the back like a phone, know I’m chargin'
Red flag, I’m comin like a bull
Yea, the clip loaded so it’s full
I’m just a little nigga, 5’2”
And a lil nigga who’ll fight you
And I got bars for days but I ain’t gon use em kuz you niggas in a daze
(Hook)
Ay so fill yo cup to the brim
Kuz his chances mighty slim (ay, ay)
So fill yo cup to the brim (ay)
So fill yo cup to the brim
Just a kid wit dreams and ambitions
He got heart, he on a mission
Ay, he on a mission
Ay, he on a mission
Ay, he on a mission
Ay, he on a mission
Mission
( Nantes )
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