Oldschool

I remember never running out of poke balls
Stay strapped cuz a nigga tryna catch em all
8Th grade cell phone only making local calls
Never used to care about making my fucking money tall

Reality hit
Mind fell apart
To the needle i'm stitched
Like a knife in the heart
I'll take a shot in the dark
I'll burn the world with this spark
I'll keep em guessing
Keep on pressing
Cuz the pressure makes art
I've got the most precious heart
But i'm still falling apart
So is it worth it in the end
To even bother to start
Am i worth my weight in gold
If i'm just breaking your heart
Is a story even told if
The book falls apart

Old school game
Never drop names
I'm just tryna burn some
New money with that old flame
Never get played if you
Never let the rules change
Gotta stay armed
Niggas always tryna take aim



Credits
Writer(s): Helena Tearer
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

Link