lyrics
I crush weed on novels written by Donald Goines, perfectly rolled my eyes low, I stays on point/I always smoke, I need the relief, like my family out in Haiti, dying on the daily, I read it in the Times now it’s hardly in the Daily/Lord can you save me? I’m having dreams that the devil’s taunting me in my sleep, what should I do?/I heard you gotta sell your soul to get a coupe and to be rich you gotta join a group, talk to me/who can I run to when I need to escape, when the pressure gets too much for me take/I can’t bear it, I swear if this is the curse that comes with the gift, I’ll give it back this very instant, perhaps for instance/now if I die tomorrow how will they mourn, crying in the dusk but forgotten by the dawn/Chapter 18, Verse 3, read it every single day that’s a powerful psalm/the Lord is my rock, fuck the government and fuck the cops, you compare me to who?/not to none of these niggas, they get a buzz then they start comparing themselves to Jigga, it’s outlandish/in memory of the late great Francis, I carry on tradition, brand new Commission/more ammunition, more guns and more women, more work to break down, long division, no revision/my cousin moves chickens, ya’ll animated like the Fu-Schnikens/I don’t listen to rap minus Nipsey Hussle and a couple of cats, no additional name dropping I’ll just leave it at that/look, I think miltant, they’d rather keep my niggas preoccupied on that Twitter shit, not me/my personal thoughts belong in my head, won’t divulge the grand plan on the worldwide web, feel me?/they won’t allow me to tell you the truth, so this here’s for promotional use/they won’t allow me to sell you the truth, so this here’s for promotional use/ they won’t allow me to give you the truth, so this here’s for promotional use/they won’t allow me to tell you the truth, so this here’s for promotional use/ they won’t allow me to tell you the rest, but I had to get this off of my chest, you see me stressed right?
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