P.Y. - 2:56

Laying in my twin bed, listening to what my twin said
Sink is full; the floor's a mess
Gotta drag my black ass downstairs
(Ayo)
My momma whipping and my skin be crippin
But I bite my tongue, and I try to listen
Man I hate these walls
I'll never miss them
When I'm of age I'll be out of prison

And that's how I feel if she'd really listen
And my father's gone man I barely miss him
(Man them Bronx days was all I was given)
And I'm a problem child and I need forgiveness (Ayo)
And only lord knows how I be living and the truth of the words that I be spitting
"Talk back boy and you'll be smitten"
But backtalk's not the definition
Got the

Nah, I'm playing
That's- that's not going in
Alright you can cut it- you can cut it there
Add reverb on it, yeah

(1-2-3
One up)

My stomach screaming but my mother scheming
Guess I'm not going downstairs this evening
Man my eyes tired but I'm so inspired
Fuck sleep I can go without her
I got these chords, they my superpower
With my earbuds in, I'll be gone for hours
And forget the pain, in my DAW of course
With these pretty chords on some synthesizers, nigga
(Fuck)

(Ah good)
Shit
Brandon, are your vocals in yet

Written by:
Papa Yaw Owusu

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

Lyrics powered by Lyric Find