The Old Days Phora

[Verse 1: Phora]
Its that type of joint that you burn put in your system and roll to
I ain't got to spark a blunt I'm keeping it old school
Just me and my music and my 03 Camry
It ain't much but if it gets me to my girl shit I'll be happy
Rolling through my city passing streets I used to walk through
Memories of school and all the girls I used to talk to
Flashbacks to the time when I drank my first Mickey's
Paint stains on my dickies, Freight trains on a quickie
Graf writers know what the fuck I'm talking about
Member the very first time you got socked in the mouth? I do
Every week I used to get my ass beat
All the times I ran from the cops could've been an athlete
I ain't tryna have cuffs on my wrists in the backseat
So I'm running through your backyard like it's a track meet
See, I ain't a criminal, just a youngster with problems
And I don't show up to school cause the teachers say not to bother
Prolly cause they lost hope in our generation.
All I needed was some guidance and some elevation.
But they ain't have it so I tried to act cool and hung with the wrong crowd
Never follow the rules so I bump this song loud
So selfish I never thought I'd make mom proud, now she taking pictures from the crowd she need to calm down
Tagging me on Facebook every four minutes
Never made a song without putting my soul in it
And this is only getting started
This is for my dearly departed, we out here living homie