Jah Damm - Copacetic

Feeling like fighting so
Keep me a lighter close
I don't smoke but I get high
To fight the lows
A lot of people ask what I be writing for
I say cuz I'm the best but they don't like it though
Tryna put an S on my chest and a cape on
When I'm in the booth you know I be making
Hit after hit like a porno set
God worked for 6 days so I can't ever rest
I Hustle on the street like my bank closed
Tryna get some fashion online like ASOS
The way you pout your lips thought you was looking for besos
The way I'm counting money you would think I'm tryna be Besos
I can't go
Innocent ignorant
Different yet pencil in
Feelings that limiting
Internet simpletons
Killing and sinning and
Thinking that I won't fall
Listen to the bars like the word of Jah
My Karma NU but feel old Least a couple of thanks
To my past and my goals Need a couple of banks
If I got Dollar whenever told That all I did was mistakes
I'd remind I'm on a role Grade A with the stakes
This YR mine cuz I claim it, cleaned up I'm feeling stainless
Locked in when I be aiming, I sleep like I'm in Vegas
Clout no I ain't chasing, on track I'm feeling weightless
A dynasty in the making, in front of me is greatness
And that's, copasetic, chill, my aesthetic
Ice burg Slim, but I write so poetic
Water still my beverage, always ahead of average
An overthinker so my views high you see It's my vantage
Point I stay on, hand me chips wit some cheese
Missed more when I'm gone, ain't many different like me
I'm cold wid it I'm froze, get on a track and ski
Usually catch me wit goats, I'm around what I be
I often think about the envious approaches
Of those that render my silence as hopeless
I barely need to speak my moves themselves carry impact
I'm like your favorite wrestler when it comes to that
She wanna know my pin like a 3 count when I swipe
Likely the price of any purchase can make someone enticed
I'm not the type to tell everyone everything that I like
Rather let you fill in the blanks and let you know if you're right
I write my literature with lit temperature that's hall of fame worth
My contribution already deserve a hanged jersey
Before mobile phones broken homes that broke bones
That should've just been flesh wounds Clipse and the Neptunes
Was poppin back then
Running away from home wasn't an option back then
Where the fuck ima go?
Trapped between the burbs and the ghetto
Trapped between survival on a tightrope
My mama made me special

Written by:
Cameron Burt, Mikal Muhammad, Tevin Easton

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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