[Verse]
Picture me, twenty-three, a bag of sold out shows
I made it out with music, I took all my bros
And this merchandise is poppin', I sell all my clothes
And all these hoes are ghost, I got one real girl
Picture me, twenty-three, I didn't chase my dreams
My mum wanted me to do finance, so I came off beats
And now I'm sittin' at a desk with a 2:2 in finance
Eatin' pasta on my lunch break while I'm scribblin' my rhymes
And picture me, seventeen, in an all-black suit
Layin' still in a coffin, surrounded by my crew
Givin' half-heart apologies for watching while they bottled me
Or running when they shot at me, you're next up if you prodigy
Wait, I meant poke a G
Picture me, a road banger, I hope that you don't notice me
No face for the road, my G
Kill him in seven ways, lemon haze, how I smoke a G
Name can get you out the beef, pissed if you owe me P's
Them boys try and piss take, boy, what a mistake
I'll come back with a shotty and blow your lungs out your ribcage
Picture me a snitch, nah, I couldn't picture that
Picture me a snitch, nah, I couldn't ever think of that
Picture me with a baby mum that didn't wanna see me blow
So she let my talent go to waste like Robinho
I've been involved, I've seen the roads where the good die young
And the bad get life, and the ugly is the ugly, but
Picture me, a legend, worldwide or in Streatham
Known for words in a sentence, I put verbs in a sentence
There's action in my letters
And I never compromise
Nor follow what the trend is, I create my own style
'Cause, I got my own agendas, I got music, all that matters
But what about the yutes that ain't athletes or rappers?
What about the yutes that ain't athletes or rappers?
Picture you, I don't know your picture, can you paint it for me?
And can you take out all the man that's gonna taint it for me?
And can you take out all the girls that's gonna waste it for me?
Or illustrate how you're gonna get to all these places for me
And if you can't, then don't worry, G, you got time
But you just need to paint a picture, or just sketch a draft
'Cause how you know you're going down the wrong road
If you're in a dark place, and you don't select a path?
But picture you, talkin' loads about goals and riches
With a phone full of cro shots, hoes and bitches
And a head filled with fast dreams
I talk to God like it's RE
About my picture cause I can't see
I'm at war with my mind
So I'm still with a sket getting Ed like Hardy
And I don't mind, 'cause them man there all speakers like parties
I'm conflicted on this mission, so I'm still in the mist with a black star on my waist like Kwame
Guys are on my case, it's like I wasn't diallin' banks for some pay
While you was busy flicking shanks for a name
Or busy robbin' drugs with a dipper
Or you could call me Scofield
Why? 'Cause I got prison in my skin
But I won't ever have a prison in my picture
Listen to my scripture, like teachers with teardrops
Principles a killer, all for the skrilla
But it's not hard, it comes from within
So don't let anybody tell you to put drugs in the cling
And don't let anybody tell you you can't run, dance, sing
Or be a baller, you can be a king
Now, you can work a nine-to-five if it makes you smile at night
Money ain't a measure of success
'Cause you can have a billion and dead
You can have twenty grand flat and live a long, long life with no stress
So listen, I don't know your picture, can you paint it for me?
And can you tell me where you batch of friends is takin' you
And can you tell me what your aspirations are, your dreams
Forget the money, brother, tell me what makes you you
Can you tell me why you wake up, what makes you tick
What makes you smile, what makes you laugh, what makes you sick
Can you tell me why you're on this earth
Can you tell me why you're living', is it in and out of prison
Are you tryna touch a nation
Or are you tryna touch a paigon?
You get your picture, get to paintin'
Are you playin' in a stadium
Or are you sittin' in a station?
You get your picture, get to paintin'
Are you the guy inside the hospital that's prayin' that he makes it
Or working with the surgeons and the nurses, tryna save him
Are you buried in a grave for some pennies and a chain?
A memory that fades, a picture you didn't paint
I bet them boys think I'm panickin'
Pep Guardiola, G, I'm managin'
Stop sayin' that you beef me, it's embarrassing
I never had these paigons 'til my face was on this rappin' ting
Now every other yute is on chatty ting
See me in a rave, it's black blades, lightsabers, call me Anakin
Music, money, paigons, education, fam, I handle it
I try so hard in my tracks to give a message
But it's messed cah I'll still get you shredded by some savages
I swear you don't know pressure
Ask Jack, I had labels playin' Deal or No Deal like I'm Noel Edmonds
Independent, no pressure
My whole team Nike'd out to the socks, you should know better
A-levels, no pressure
And my ex just text me, she should know better
I can still paint a picture, put a pen into my hand
It's time to paint your picture, my brother, now you can go get it
Picture me, twenty-three, a bag of sold out shows
I made it out with music, I took all my bros
And this merchandise is poppin', I sell all my clothes
And all these hoes are ghost, I got one real girl
Picture me, twenty-three, I didn't chase my dreams
My mum wanted me to do finance, so I came off beats
And now I'm sittin' at a desk with a 2:2 in finance
Eatin' pasta on my lunch break while I'm scribblin' my rhymes
And picture me, seventeen, in an all-black suit
Layin' still in a coffin, surrounded by my crew
Givin' half-heart apologies for watching while they bottled me
Or running when they shot at me, you're next up if you prodigy
Wait, I meant poke a G
Picture me, a road banger, I hope that you don't notice me
No face for the road, my G
Kill him in seven ways, lemon haze, how I smoke a G
Name can get you out the beef, pissed if you owe me P's
Them boys try and piss take, boy, what a mistake
I'll come back with a shotty and blow your lungs out your ribcage
Picture me a snitch, nah, I couldn't picture that
Picture me a snitch, nah, I couldn't ever think of that
Picture me with a baby mum that didn't wanna see me blow
So she let my talent go to waste like Robinho
I've been involved, I've seen the roads where the good die young
And the bad get life, and the ugly is the ugly, but
Picture me, a legend, worldwide or in Streatham
Known for words in a sentence, I put verbs in a sentence
There's action in my letters
And I never compromise
Nor follow what the trend is, I create my own style
'Cause, I got my own agendas, I got music, all that matters
But what about the yutes that ain't athletes or rappers?
What about the yutes that ain't athletes or rappers?
Picture you, I don't know your picture, can you paint it for me?
And can you take out all the man that's gonna taint it for me?
And can you take out all the girls that's gonna waste it for me?
Or illustrate how you're gonna get to all these places for me
And if you can't, then don't worry, G, you got time
But you just need to paint a picture, or just sketch a draft
'Cause how you know you're going down the wrong road
If you're in a dark place, and you don't select a path?
But picture you, talkin' loads about goals and riches
With a phone full of cro shots, hoes and bitches
And a head filled with fast dreams
I talk to God like it's RE
About my picture cause I can't see
I'm at war with my mind
So I'm still with a sket getting Ed like Hardy
And I don't mind, 'cause them man there all speakers like parties
I'm conflicted on this mission, so I'm still in the mist with a black star on my waist like Kwame
Guys are on my case, it's like I wasn't diallin' banks for some pay
While you was busy flicking shanks for a name
Or busy robbin' drugs with a dipper
Or you could call me Scofield
Why? 'Cause I got prison in my skin
But I won't ever have a prison in my picture
Listen to my scripture, like teachers with teardrops
Principles a killer, all for the skrilla
But it's not hard, it comes from within
So don't let anybody tell you to put drugs in the cling
And don't let anybody tell you you can't run, dance, sing
Or be a baller, you can be a king
Now, you can work a nine-to-five if it makes you smile at night
Money ain't a measure of success
'Cause you can have a billion and dead
You can have twenty grand flat and live a long, long life with no stress
So listen, I don't know your picture, can you paint it for me?
And can you tell me where you batch of friends is takin' you
And can you tell me what your aspirations are, your dreams
Forget the money, brother, tell me what makes you you
Can you tell me why you wake up, what makes you tick
What makes you smile, what makes you laugh, what makes you sick
Can you tell me why you're on this earth
Can you tell me why you're living', is it in and out of prison
Are you tryna touch a nation
Or are you tryna touch a paigon?
You get your picture, get to paintin'
Are you playin' in a stadium
Or are you sittin' in a station?
You get your picture, get to paintin'
Are you the guy inside the hospital that's prayin' that he makes it
Or working with the surgeons and the nurses, tryna save him
Are you buried in a grave for some pennies and a chain?
A memory that fades, a picture you didn't paint
I bet them boys think I'm panickin'
Pep Guardiola, G, I'm managin'
Stop sayin' that you beef me, it's embarrassing
I never had these paigons 'til my face was on this rappin' ting
Now every other yute is on chatty ting
See me in a rave, it's black blades, lightsabers, call me Anakin
Music, money, paigons, education, fam, I handle it
I try so hard in my tracks to give a message
But it's messed cah I'll still get you shredded by some savages
I swear you don't know pressure
Ask Jack, I had labels playin' Deal or No Deal like I'm Noel Edmonds
Independent, no pressure
My whole team Nike'd out to the socks, you should know better
A-levels, no pressure
And my ex just text me, she should know better
I can still paint a picture, put a pen into my hand
It's time to paint your picture, my brother, now you can go get it
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