QreativeQU - So Close (Almost There Pt. 2)

Get up eight times if you fall seven
Goin through hell just tryna get to heaven
If you have ten I gotta get eleven
There is no question, 7-17 reppin', lessons
Better learn em, there's no room for guessin'
Nor stressin', I'm countin the blessin's
Stone Cold when I'm wrestlin'

No rearview cause I'm not backin' up
Wired like an EV you can't gas me up
I thought I knew love but I'm so bad at love
Thought I had to do extra like I'm not enough
I'm speakin' blunt like we used to stay blunted
Now I'm back to growin', sad my growth was stunted
Gotta pay me back, it all times a hundred
Pedal to the metal, So Close and I want it

So close to the edge that I'm pushed accidentally
Voices in my head and they're not friendly to me
Ever since I was young they would just scream at me
Sayin' so many things they were just mean to me
I had to learn how to channel dark energy
Now the money is the only new friend to me
I'm the supplier and you are all fiends to me
I battle demons, you're just human beings to me

And that's not a fight
We all got guns niggha you got a knife
I feel like David, I know my Goliath
Look, I'm self aware and myself I inspire
To be or not to be, my toes at the fire
Still I'm not singin', I'm not in a choir
Assessin' the situation and it's dire
Back against the wall, it's down to the wire

So close to the edge that I might just jump off
Cause I already feel like I'm in a free fall
Started walkin' tall, it ended in a crawl
And now I don't feel like I wanna go on

So close to the fire I feel like I'm bacon
Chop up the piggy's, the money just rake in
Not coppin' one piglet at least two I'm takin
Not thinkin' about the time I could be facin'

And that's how it be
Momma told me that she not proud of me
She told me she raised me better than to be
Another statistic, I just wanna eat
Check the ballistics, the bullets wiped clean
Movin' in silence, lasagna, a G
Sauced up, all about the bread and the cheese
Meatier pockets, fam, that's all I need

Dressed in all black, I'm the furthest from emo
Peelin' caps back I'm much closer to chemo
This not Shake Ya Ass music, this is not P-Lo
This is some Fck You, this is more CeeLo

Pistol in my lap, no one ridin' shotgun
Me myself and I, myself is the hot one
She don't want a bytch so thank God I'm not one
She want a mans man, told her friends that she got one

It's like I'm a prize
Can tell a real smile by lookin' at eyes
It might be a mask that I put on to hide
It might be a front, I'm good with the facade
Told Momma I'm good, sorry Momma I lied
Wrote her a letter, said Momma I tried
Told her don't cry, as I wrote it I cried
Said it's not your fault, don't know how to say bye

Blood on the walls, Mad Max keepin' a tally
Hand to hand combat, I'm good in the alley
Afterwards to relax I hit up Towelie
Playin the Long game, so I feel like Howie

No chef but I put in work in the kitchen
Makin' my shawty some veggies and chicken
She tell me I'm dry, she ask why I'm distant
She said you can tell me, said "Baby I'll listen"

So close to the edge that I'm pushed accidentally
Voices in my head and they're not friendly to me
Ever since I was young they would just scream at me
Sayin' so many things they were just mean to me

So close to the edge that I might just jump off
Cause I already feel like I'm in a free fall
Started walkin' tall, it ended in a crawl
And now I don't feel like I wanna go on

Written by:
Quion Gunning

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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