Music: Gerard Pereda Tajalle Jr./Samuel Gloade
One day I'ma cross that line,
I've been taking my time,
I got patience but I been waiting,
Feels like my whole life,
To meet my maker,
Meet my flaws,
See my Daddy,
See my Dawgs,
Tell my Momma we gon' be alright,
I've been spending my life,
Tryna keep my heart,
Tryna keep my time,
I'm failing, Tell me what's the use?
Make me, Break me, What can I do?
When the blood on my hands don't wash away,
The money I make don't take away,
All of the pain, All of the shame,
All of the dreams that faded away,
Maybe I want too much,
Maybe I thought too much,
Maybe I fought too much,
Maybe it's simple,
Maybe I'm done,
Maybe we're done,
Take of the mask and throw me out,
Pull in the reigns and roll me out,
Gimme my chains and send me out,
Open your heart and hear me out,
Open your heart and hear me out,
Open your heart and hear me, out.
(Jay Taj, I think you're good)
(Fa'aumu)
(But I'm not sure you're great)
(But I'm not sure you're great)
(You mother ****ers ain't make me)
I been working,
You been talkin bout shit that you don't even know
(But you really you should)
Take a picture, the perfection won't be reflection when you lookin back
(And baby you could)
Call me that, But never call me that late,
I'ma give it, and give it a give and go,
Would you mind if I take my time,
To get the frame right,
I'm workin all night for the light when I
(Take that)
Take back what I made back
(Then)
I don't wanna be the needle in a haystack,
I don't wanna be the run of the mill,
In a 01' done and a tape deck,
Could you picture me or picture that,
Through a Nikon or a Kodak Black,
(Click Clack)
Let me wind it back
(Click Clack)
Let me run that back
Ya'll really called this a competition, huh?
You mother ****ers ain't make me,
Ya'll really called this a competition, huh?
The Jura floatin over Crenshaw,
I be with the realest, homie,
I be with the big dawgs,
Barkin up a tree that you ain't tryna see,
The tops not alone that's just something that I'm tryna be
I still got a,
Backseat full of track meets,
If I blurt it hope you heard it,
I prefer that you don't ask me,
Waited too long, all that pat me on the back shit,
Back when I was pullin shit together you look past it,
I never been the type to beg for a retweet,
Beg for a handout or beg for a cheat sheet,
Hopped on the show and got exactly what I needed,
Had a lil moment but every moment is feeltin,
It's kinda funny how it get that way,
Get to yappin on the gram in a bitch ass way,
All that subtweetin talkin all that bitch ass game,
Then look in VIP and see his bitch with bitch ass Jay!
Penthouse like a compound,
(Spring Street!)
It's crazy how they come around now,
(They need me!)
We up, but we downtown,
(Spring Street!)
Don't come around if you don't, WOOOOW,
Look at Westside Jerry goin Boo-Yao,
Hoppin out the foreign more Samoans than a Luau,
We old school,
Like that Monte Carlo with the two door,
Type of shit that's chess not checkers thought you know thought,
Bitch I had it crackin back when I had the braids,
I never played,
But I'm Anthony Dave,
I never sway,
Yeah I'm Anthony Grays,
I'm say hey,
Yeah I'm Willie, I'm Mays,
I swear to God that I can't remember where the **** I started at,
(Started at)
My homies love me they won't tell me where your body is at,
(No)
Yeah where I'm from that's every night on the almanac,
Where them outsiders getting popped for they wallet at,
Where the Jura floatin over Bristol
(Bristooooool)
I be with the realest, homie,
I be with the big dawgs,
Barkin up a tree that you ain't tryna see,
The tops not alone that's just something that I'm tryna be!