[Verse: Ransom]
I’m still trying to trust what my wife says
I feel the pain in them future tears that she might shed
I reminisce when that shank was taped to my right leg
I came a long way from them cookies stuck to the white bread
Juvenile delinquent trying to prove what I was thinking (yeah)
Maneuver like I’m drinking, you’re assuming I was sinking (nah)
Me and my shooters like brothers, he knew when I was blinking
Run up on you in your booth, treat your medulla like it’s Lincoln’s
Huh, y’all kind of new, I’ll let it sink in (I'll let that sink in)
No need to pursue it ‘cause I been king (nah)
But I been in them sewers where it’s stinking
Blood from a tortured soul that’s flowing fluid through my ink pen
Implying I’m the one, defiance with the gun
What’s the point of chasing some bread if you’ll be dying over crumbs?
The truth is always seen and almost never heard
That’s why when a altercation took place, I never said a word
They say that a proper burial ground is what a death deserves
But how you’re six feet underground and never left the curb?(Scoffs)
That’s kind of deep, just let me catch the words
What kind of sheep runs from a shepherd's herd?
Never followed any consensus, I been came to my senses
I told y’all people what the one percent is
And I ain’t wanna vent this, but I’m back with a vengeance (i'm back)
I know that chasing pennies got a stink, that’s what that scent is
It’s kind of vivid like I dreamt this
But can’t make out the faces of haters who might resent this
You might have you a couple of artists that might attempt this
But you’ll be just comparing a father-type to apprentice
Live by the gun and die shooting it
I pray I never use it again, I pray that I don’t get used to me not using it
(Y’all know what I’m talking about)
Yeah, I pray that I don’t get used to me not using it
Hold on, spilled out this verse so you can feel it
I wrote a Dear John letter once but I couldn’t seal it
Addressed it to the game, there was things that I couldn’t deal with
Money don’t change your character, homie, it just reveals it
There’s no exceptions, there’s no discretions
‘Cause trying to judge a life you never lived is your preference
You’ve never been where I’ve been, so why would I take directions?
Our point is not the same, it’s like Kyrie to Colin Sexton, a solid question
This child is destined for his blessings
But if you want some peace, you prepare for war with aggression
How could you sleep when all your niggas die?
I’m just trying to rest in peace while I am still alive, you feel the vibe?
I still abide by street politics, and I know it’s ill-advised
Don’t pour that liquor out for your homie, point it to the sky
(Yeah, hold your bottles up, my nigga, to the sky)
Don’t pour that liquor out for your homie, point it to the sky
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