JID - Sistanem
(Cole, you stupid)Look, you told me never let this get ahold of me
You hate to see me hurt you want to hurt someone for me
Way too down to earth, don't do no dirt for me please
I don't need nobody else takin' a deal or a plea
God know what I'm doin' he gon' deal with me
Niggas ain't cut like that, but you'll kill for me
And I don't care if we don't speak for like a million weeks
You right there when I need you
But I know these ain't your kind of people
I finally bought a home to raise my family
I'm done with all the hoes and they anatomies
I tried to call yo' phone again, you said it wasn't on
And by the time you got my letter I was long gone
Back on the road, gone with the wind blows
Packin' the shows, hoes and the nymphos
Platinum and gold, you know how this shit go
When family's gone, you don't know what you here for, uh
Just remember, remember who I am, mmh
Mommies, daughters, martyrs, callers
Ballers, fathers, all the fallen
Mommies, daughters, martyrs, callers
Ballers, fathers, all the fallen
Look, you said I shouldn't worry 'bout the fame
You seem to be concerned of what you heard about the game
'Cause soon as niggas get a lil' change, niggas change
And playin' with the Lord's name sayin' it in vein
You head the song and said I did the same thang
You seein' something different in my eyes and she emphasized
And I ain't get it at the time, I couldn't listen
Had to call her back, line packed, sold out tickets
I'm on the wrong track, road back
Fuck it, I'm hittin' it on the road
I'ma bulldoze the globe for the dough
She know she happy that we doin' better than before
As long as I'm sellin' shows, you ain't sellin' for your soul
I felt like she yellin' like Azealia in that megaphone
Said I'ma hit you in the mornin' keep your message on
I did my set then sat alone for a second by myself
Ask questions, choices, destination
Courses, highway routes, Royces
Rollin, voices, goin' on and on and on, it's noisy
I'm not the only one affected by the poison in the mind
In the lifestyle, the shine from the iced out diamonds
That combine with misogynistic mindsets
Dialect from slave, die tribe, they tryin' dissect to re-digest
I toss that mindset overboard like an object
I'm tryin' to find a letter to the Lord from the projects
'Cause when I was a boy I didn't know that we was poor
And now I'm on tour got a moment to explore
And show my niggas soemthin' we ain't never seen before
Open doors so you know I'm goin'
Back on the road, gone with the wind blows
Packin' the shows, hoes and the nymphos
Platinum and gold, you know how this shit go
When family's gone, you don't know what you here for, uh
Just remember, remember who I am, mmh
Mommies, daughters, martyrs, callers
Ballers, fathers, all the fallen
Mommies, daughters, martyrs, callers
Ballers, fathers, all the fallen
Why do I get so damn high that I can't feel my face?
Try and try to free my mind but I can't find a way
Why do I get so damn high that I can't feel my face?
Try and try to free my mind but I can't find a way
Look, I never gave that much a fuck about this shit
To let it challenge my integrity
But you questioning me got me you thinkin' less of me
The lesson in this shit is we should talk
Face to face, fuck the messagin'
Meet me in the flesh and you can see I'm still lil' Destin
Lil' brubby, lil' BB bald head as a baby in the Huggies
Stuntin' like my dad I'm a druggie
Money in my hands but it's bloody
Try to understand if you love me, ayy
Make plans we can roll like the old days
Facetime call came with a stone-cold face
We don't talk often when we do we send, "Are you okay"
Somebody fuckin' with you I'm on the way, it's on the waist
I could tell the way you look that ain't the case
Figured you was mad at me
When you said you need a break from the family
And you not participatin' in no Pagan holiday gatherings
And ever since I started rappin' I ain't never in Atlanta too long
And I hate havin' to only see the family when somethin' bad happen
Like when granny passed I ain't wanna answer the phone
Writin' in my pad, hope I don't rememeber this wrong
Last time I seen you we was sending her home
October, November, December was gone
But on the 25th we gotta be there for Mom
I'm talkin' to you now but can I see you tomorrow?
I can be on the way soon as I finish this song
So you can see I'm still true in everything that I been doing
And I don't fuck with the Devil but I know he pursuin'
And I know that Jesus died thirty-three like Ewing
And he prolly did the same shit that we like doing
I now you gotta feel the animosity brewing
It's gettin' bad and I'm sad our relationship ruined over some trash
But it's past that
Send me all the money that I gave you over CashApp back
Since you actin' as if
We're sorry, you have reached a number that is- (aw)
That's fucked up (that's fucked up, man, that's right)
Written by:
Destin Choice Route, Eric Roberson, James Blake Litherland, John Christopher Welch, Kameron Cole, Margaux Whitney, Osunlade Osunlade, Taalib Johnson
Publisher:
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Reservoir Media Management, Inc.
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