D Bunn - Last Breath

I aint finna wait imma start my verse for the beat drop
Im knocking on the door mad aggressive sound like police knocks
2 years prior was helping employees restock
Got around some potheads seen they needed a detox

When it was cold out was walking to keep my feet hot
Wintertime shootouts hear bullets coming from each block
Girls hit my line they asking me if i eat box
I tell em hit they dougie fresh for me learn how beat box

I aint temporary im here for the longevity
Some of yall got the right mindstate but the wrong destiny
I aint make it yet i aint even a hood celebrity
But guarantee this grind from a struggle gon build my legacy

We at a round table we waiting to see who next to be
Draft night 1-60 no one selected me
Better lock ya doors we all coming in desperate need
To make it hard for you like everyone who took ecstasy

I aint gotta talk about the pain and the struggle
I been there n done that dont gotta make it a double
See i realized that my talent in this game is my hustle
Its nothing worse than when you got it n they taking it from you

Faking a chuckle i put my mask on then gut em
Make my life different rather have more than nothing
Got hittas who keep a stick hacksaw jim duggan
No graduation day we knock ya cap off when rushing

Im stretchin targets my music about to stress the market
Im fly and i dont gotta try imma be fresh regardless
No troublemaker but try me i make my effort heartless
Dont start the issue but finishing off whatevers started

They try to lock up my brother when they was pressing charges
His kids is feeling like they was bouta be left departed
I write about this cuz im the one who would stress the hardest
I give you pieces of my life show i aint just a artist

It feel good when you coming up i was down n out
Overslept on degraded n even counted out
Till i hit my roundabout im tryna make around about
86 million a second so time could balance out

Writing hits is the only way i could face the rage
You see it come out whenever i get to take the stage
My Homies stressing they hungry tryna erase the phrase
These is coming from stomachs that havent ate in days

They down to ride need that money they come n take ya raise
Letting rounds go till ya body just cant embrace the pain
Down for whatever we doing it just to make a name
Then tell em dont hate the player you gotta hate the game

Haters zoning me out so i had to make a lane
By penetratin music inside ya ears till it make ya brain
Bouta change the environment imma take the blame
I cant relate to these new rappers it aint the same

Written by:
David Bunn Jr

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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