Mr. J. Medeiros - Catch as Catch Can, Pt. 3
I moved to L.c. with a couple hundred dollars and a box of clothesI drove my car and cSRX through the rocky roads
Things was feeling real maybe cus the single deal
cBB was at our fingers still we couldn't sing for meals
I did construction in the morning
Pushing a broom at J Crew cus they knew my shoes were worn in
Stuck me in the stockroom at night I'd be performing
To a walkman plotting how soon we'd all be touring
Waiting to get fired this would be the fourth time
c boss would say the line that their patience had expired
cnd it ain't because of work ethic I wan't my work epic
I'd skip the days it wasn't worth effort to play the circuit to be heard "F" it
Those were the days I wouldn't add the "uck" cus my church kept it
I was still praying to be perfected
I still pray but now a days I know my worths present
See I been traveling these words to the ends of the Earth
Just to find it aint dependent on a word check it
We played every major venue off the strength of our show
You know some locals wont commend you if you aint from the So Cal
But you being Lo Cal is all luck and The Pros aint ever been low brow
We soaked it up than rung'em out on stage but hold up
What's hatin at this age gone do grow up or have it your way
France, Spain, Switzerland, and Norway
While you were in the local scene still tryna block the door ways
We rocked Germany, Portugal, Poland, Japan
Out to the UK, Belgium, and toured the Netherlands
Went through Canada, Sweden, to Prague and custralia
Through the Jiggy era to the Iggy czalea's
From the trailer park stigma till the pigment grew paler
Sold product out my closet true indie no failure
That's a message to self when the pressure is felt
If wealth measures success I have to leverage myself
I felt hated by peers tryna shade my career
Sixteen years it makes me wonder if I hated myself
But what's hatin at this age gone do grow up
I toured 45 states like 4 or 5 times off rhymes
You could say that I ain't blow up
But couldn't say that I aint show up so what
I had my car repossessed my bank account closed
Stretching my credit cards couldn't make the amounts owed
Till they break till it takes eight years to start over
Made it from a small town to be raped by downloads
Living in Westlake my neighbor was found cold- murdered
People baking closed curtains three break ins on a borrowed ride
Plus the hatin of loud trolls swallow pride to survive by making this sound known
I made a business though it's minimum wage-ish
It aint washing dishes or some criminal pay-ish
I fought for a gift just to give it to strangers
Since 1996 to whatever this day is
cint ever had a plan just the catch-as-catch-can
Son of a pizza man and a waitress
I wouldn't say I'm famous but I'm in my late thirties
Still making something worthy for your play list
So save the back story cus know there's always more to that
cnd let's fast forward cus we at 2:34 on the track
cnd though we only half way the other half is just more of that same
Struggle and pain for the glory of rap
Take you to NoHo to where we recording at
Just got off the phone with someone that I love more than rap
cnd now we gotta son that we love even more than that
Feeling like this story just begun and it's more than rap
I mean I gotta make it they say you need a plan
When you the son of a waitress and a pizza man
I mean I gotta make it they say you need a plan
When you the son of a waitress and a pizza man
I mean I gotta make it they say you need a plan
When you gotta son and you know you gotta feed the fam
I mean I gotta make it yo show me the plan
Till then it's just a catch-as-catch-can
Written by:
JASON CHRISTOPHER MEDEIROS, TIM H STEWART
Publisher:
Lyrics © Songtrust Ave
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