Uh, yeah Prop Dylan, Fashawn
Capitol F
Lets go
[Verse 1: Prop Dylan]
It’s like I’m stuck inside a thinking pattern//
Stuck in this rap game but really I could split an atom//
Follow the steps that my mother took, but instead of//
Reading science books I wished I’d spit it live on Jimmy Fallon//
Drink a gallon of Guinness stouts at a city tavern//
And stumble home now vision blurred out with a shitty balance//
Smoke Philly blunts and lose my mind like Lilly Allen//
These newer times will have me moving to a fishing cabin//
Stuck in my hometown, the low down dirty Bolanche//
Now where the melancholy perfectly bonds, up with the boredom//
And common peoples curtains are drawn, that’s why I started//
Visualize about the world and beyond, and I’m gone//
Still a world wide traveler, chasing my oasis//
Like Liam and Noel Gallagher, the designated driver survivor and not the passenger//
Leave it up to me I’d move every day UP in the calendar//
[Chorus: Fashawn & Prop Dylan]
Its like I’m stuck in an error//
Either above the clouds//
Or I’m under the weather, whenever//
I’m stuck, stuck up on the daily grind//
I remind myself that stuck is just a state of mind//
[Verse 2: Fashawn]
It's what I'm used to, being stuck in neutral//
Til I expanded, dilated like my mothers pupils//
Corner quick sand, something deeper just to get grands//
Hit the penitent, and got my wrist band//
Shit man, time stood still but I still stood time//
Couldn't stand being broke I know I should grind//
This chronic got me, thinking bout escaping from the pavement//
Buying acres in Jamaica, vacations in Croatia//
I learned stuck just a mind state, grind early grind late//
Til he up like the crime rate, I thought I'd never leave this
Concrete jungle, too busy out here going ape with my prime apes//
I took a pen and redesigned my faith, now he defines what's great//
Lames trying relate, stuck at home now I'm out of town//
I jot it down, while Apollo Brown provide the sound, like that//
[Chorus: Fashawn & Prop Dylan]
Its like I’m stuck in an error//
Either above the clouds//
Or I’m under the weather, whenever//
I’m stuck, stuck up on the daily grind//
I remind myself that stuck is just a state of mind//
[Verse 3: Prop Dylan]
Listen, It’s like I’m stuck in an era, came to ruffle some feathers//
But had enough of the pressure, that I be putting on myself//
To crowd please ’em, and came to the conclusion that I genuinely I got love for this era//
So fuck it whatever, ain’t playing tug of war with family//
But fuck out of dodge when it comes to underdog mentalities//
Cuz that’s when they only root for you once until you win//
Then you’re stuck wishing for sudden loss of gravity//
It’s all insanity, stuck inside my comfort zone//
NOW If I wasn’t, I’d double up the money flow a hundredfold//
The runners on my feet's for when the trumpets blow//
Still trying to squeeze a diamond out a fucking lump of coal//
And if your lyrical with rhyming, then your numbers low//
Guess I’m the living definition that it wasn’t so//
See I hate being stuck, and love leaving//
But nothing beats the unequivocal feeling of coming home
(I’m in my fucking zone)
[Chorus: Fashawn & Prop Dylan]
Its like I’m stuck in an error//
Either above the clouds//
Or I’m under the weather, whenever//
I’m stuck, stuck up on the daily grind//
I remind myself that stuck is just a state of mind//
Capitol F
Lets go
[Verse 1: Prop Dylan]
It’s like I’m stuck inside a thinking pattern//
Stuck in this rap game but really I could split an atom//
Follow the steps that my mother took, but instead of//
Reading science books I wished I’d spit it live on Jimmy Fallon//
Drink a gallon of Guinness stouts at a city tavern//
And stumble home now vision blurred out with a shitty balance//
Smoke Philly blunts and lose my mind like Lilly Allen//
These newer times will have me moving to a fishing cabin//
Stuck in my hometown, the low down dirty Bolanche//
Now where the melancholy perfectly bonds, up with the boredom//
And common peoples curtains are drawn, that’s why I started//
Visualize about the world and beyond, and I’m gone//
Still a world wide traveler, chasing my oasis//
Like Liam and Noel Gallagher, the designated driver survivor and not the passenger//
Leave it up to me I’d move every day UP in the calendar//
[Chorus: Fashawn & Prop Dylan]
Its like I’m stuck in an error//
Either above the clouds//
Or I’m under the weather, whenever//
I’m stuck, stuck up on the daily grind//
I remind myself that stuck is just a state of mind//
[Verse 2: Fashawn]
It's what I'm used to, being stuck in neutral//
Til I expanded, dilated like my mothers pupils//
Corner quick sand, something deeper just to get grands//
Hit the penitent, and got my wrist band//
Shit man, time stood still but I still stood time//
Couldn't stand being broke I know I should grind//
This chronic got me, thinking bout escaping from the pavement//
Buying acres in Jamaica, vacations in Croatia//
I learned stuck just a mind state, grind early grind late//
Til he up like the crime rate, I thought I'd never leave this
Concrete jungle, too busy out here going ape with my prime apes//
I took a pen and redesigned my faith, now he defines what's great//
Lames trying relate, stuck at home now I'm out of town//
I jot it down, while Apollo Brown provide the sound, like that//
[Chorus: Fashawn & Prop Dylan]
Its like I’m stuck in an error//
Either above the clouds//
Or I’m under the weather, whenever//
I’m stuck, stuck up on the daily grind//
I remind myself that stuck is just a state of mind//
[Verse 3: Prop Dylan]
Listen, It’s like I’m stuck in an era, came to ruffle some feathers//
But had enough of the pressure, that I be putting on myself//
To crowd please ’em, and came to the conclusion that I genuinely I got love for this era//
So fuck it whatever, ain’t playing tug of war with family//
But fuck out of dodge when it comes to underdog mentalities//
Cuz that’s when they only root for you once until you win//
Then you’re stuck wishing for sudden loss of gravity//
It’s all insanity, stuck inside my comfort zone//
NOW If I wasn’t, I’d double up the money flow a hundredfold//
The runners on my feet's for when the trumpets blow//
Still trying to squeeze a diamond out a fucking lump of coal//
And if your lyrical with rhyming, then your numbers low//
Guess I’m the living definition that it wasn’t so//
See I hate being stuck, and love leaving//
But nothing beats the unequivocal feeling of coming home
(I’m in my fucking zone)
[Chorus: Fashawn & Prop Dylan]
Its like I’m stuck in an error//
Either above the clouds//
Or I’m under the weather, whenever//
I’m stuck, stuck up on the daily grind//
I remind myself that stuck is just a state of mind//
( Prop Dylan & Fashawn )
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