Pressure, this pain can’t measure.
Wrote all day then lay in my displeasure.
Smokes been late and now I can remember, why my habits are an always burning ember.
I’m lost in November, found by December.
Brand new man as I enter to September.
I just flow what’s natural, still trynna be clever.
This the life that I have entered, where my mind will be dismembered and I sew it back together. Hidden treasure venture for all your endeavors.
Didn’t have leisure till I lift up my levers.
Green lean finna keep me good forever.
Smoking on some trees for the pressure of whatever.
I don’t like the type to try and speak on someone’s gender.
Most the times my life is stuck between the new and old tender.
Soul bender, so cold in my Splendor.
Pressure, this lane takes effort.
Hate will fester, for the face of what’s fresher.
What I make would catch hate from who’s better. Then don’t know me they just see a bunch of letters. Face gets redder hearing the old heads lecture.
Maybe that would just be my conjecture.
But the new heads spitting is something lesser.
I just hang with the homies, hit em with a yessir.
All these cats at the top had to take the header.
They make a day what I can’t envision.
Fuck 12 & the jakes making money off of prison.
With rap being myself was the hardest decision.
Never share myself, besides what’s on my television, so I listen to the real and explain how I feel. So I chill on the shrills speaking ill on who I see in goodwill, still..
I can only do so much, clutch on to my albums.
Fuck what they spouting, it’s about what you put out and in.
Working on this music so my future can begin.
I know them but can’t reach or pretend.
My soul sits here at the end.
It’s been so long since I’ve seen some old friends.
Can not speak because I feel meek, weak not the rapper see me going after all the trauma I had captured.
Feel the heat inside the blaster, they don’t want to see me mix and master.
Take my time or fix it faster, I don’t matter.
What’s the word or disaster?
It’s a factor of the hate, but the fate is plastered.
They say Nate can’t take them bad words but we both bastards, so don’t pass words or passwords. (Past words)
