Theory - QP

Music has to touch you in the wing of it bro,
Cause' think about art bro,
Think about the time that an artist can put in to paint a picture bro
Thats why when it's up it's done and it can live for forever
But a musician bro,
You got to feel it right then, right there
Because when its over, its over

This my time, yea
Finna talk my shit right now
Roll that

Yeah
Oh, Yeah
Yeah

Ones up, one up (Yeah)
Ten down, head up (Head up)
Chin down, bows tucked
Self loved untouched (Cant touch me baby)
My bitch and my blunt
The only input I trust
The only input I trust
Keep that minimum on god
We clowning for promotion (We ain't clowning baby)
Platform or exposure (We don't need it, don't need it)
Keep it close keep it close nit
Fuck ya momma if you aint with it
This ain't pressure this be self expression
A real musician I got different measures
Tryning to line something up
Put that back in my city
Know I'm 100 with that
Thats why my niggas feel me
Sensitive bout my shit, you know Im an artist truly
So nigga watch ya mouth before I smack the shit out ya
Show my youngins its possible if they get out here
Show my momma that even the drug dealers got a lil god in them

A quarter pound of that fire
A quarter pound of that fire
Smoke that shit I'm in the sky
Another level I go higher
Couldn't catch me if you tried to

Yeah
Oh, Yeah
Yeah

Written by:
Daniel Simmons

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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