Che - August

As I prepare myself for becoming one of the best alive
I turn my head and notice distance between me and the guys
That i've befriended in my life who just haven't gotten a grip
I grab a hold of a pen
They grab a hold of a pen
But yes i pen with this pen
And they blow Os with they shit
My flows are nuclear chernobyl
Opal stones in my fist
Its just a testament and evidence to will and passion
Grenade launch trey bombs in the form of some great songs
Life moves in slow motion i’m feeling like Trey Songz
Niggas dont wanna clash
Niggas dont wanna knuckle up
Got a couple of kids I coulda been huddled with some of ya
Plotting world domination
Now it's tables you waiting
How the tables have turned im tipping the scales on those hating
And my ideas to fucking good to be sharing with half you niggas
Half you niggas fuckin crafted ya acts off of my image
But I don't say that much cause really it don't matter to me
But if i see a nigga talkin bout a label thats heat
Or an art collective that they swear is running the streets
Im gonna fuckin snap harder than open mic seats
Open mic eagle get hella personal on beats
Cause if I don’t I’ll beat myself up worse than papa did me
I’m fuckin sick ill
Shit spills on my sheets
Nyquill will quell my thoughts to sleep
Hard to beat
Hearts harp on some awful beats
And man that kickdrum is dumb like Kenny Beats

You won’t be my Joe Jackson nigga I’m not afraid of you
Or at least not anymore
I’ll call Candace
And ask her to be so candid when I question her
And ask her what she saw
Maybe she’ll say something
Maybe she’ll lie like how she did in the courts
Or she could cry whilst collecting all of her thoughts
That’s an aside but as I look in your eyes I see a fuckin child perpetuating his pops actions
He made you feel like dirt little man
And you defer to fist to fix all of that hurt and it ends with me
I'm breaking the cycle
Breaking the chain
Cutting the cord that's connecting my consciousness to this pain
Umbilical
Nigga what you feeding to me
What we been eating ain't been feeding our nutritional needs
Yeah you turned into skin and bone
Shriveled up and alone
You dont have the fuckin guts to break this chain on your own
And I feel bad for you
Yeah truly
I feel bad for you
I think about you every time I vomit in a bathroom
I sit with mom triumphant
Cause I made it home
But I know this nigga aint gonna make it all on his own

Written by:
ANTHONY EDWIN PHILLIPS

Publisher:
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Downtown Music Publishing

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