Fredd C. - Osage Ct.

I watch my father die on the third of January
Gettin' High off the herb plottin' on a bigger theory
Dead faces only thing that led to changes
You hit me and it's clear you goin though some phases
I try my best not to respond malicious
Trying to make it out the Lex off what my palm has written
Wish I had you in the flesh but when it's calm it's distant
Sometimes I'm a lost boy searching for my mom's affection
I'm not real cause I said I liked it when I was just pretending
I think I didn't wanna hurt your feelings
Life defined by the merch and dealing
I pray my skills never go to commercial or diminished
You can't pop unless you have universal appealing
Man I came up on the block just cursing and sinning
No matter what you do or where you go in life
There's still a hearse in the ending
That's why I want heaven on earth or at least better living
I don't wanna commerce with you
Niggas been spittin' venom
Cause you hit me them daps but you hiss behind my back
Last time I doubled back none of us had a plaque
Past time serving sacks writing troubled raps
And damn will I ever make it on the map
Damn will I be close to jack
Bigger in my city then I am on the internet
You wasn't with me serving grams with degenerates
And I ain't trippin' on the envious
Came a long way school skippin' with illiterates
Molested as a child and i was robbed of my innocence
Question most involved with the gimmick shit
I been destined for applause with this penmanship
I need a blessing for my cause once the sin commence
Damn Depression trying to pause what my mission is
I keep the Pressure in my draws trying to see mit
I need more time more grind more grit
Young nigga trying to shine coming from the trenches

Written by:
Fred Croney

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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