Surviving the Times
I wanna be an icon someone kids can rely on
Pay attention its not the clothes you got on
It's about working from dusk till dawn
Helping out your little homies putting em on
Don't get me wrong now and then I hit the bong
Like Im a distant cousin of Cheech and wrong
To each his own some feels that's wrong
Please mind your business this is my song
I truly believe we all could get along
If we look with optimism instead of whats wrong
Beating down industry doors im King Kong
An to you fake mc's this is your swan song
Promoting violence and drugs you wanna be thugs
Whats wrong mama not give you any hugs
A fat kid so my mama only girl showed me love
Surviving the Times a day a time
Some days I swear im losing my mind
Driving barely staying in between the lines
I gotta go for greatness I cant ignore the signs
Why be a pawn when the whole damn board could be fine
Why would I not kill these Decepticons im Optimus Prime
They talk about it casually how the worlds run savagely
We all wanna be great, sadly only a few will be
An to be great alota people gotta get filthy
So you might be rich g bit that moneys filthy
Made with others blood and sweat
Leaving you with sleepless nights and alota regrets
Go on go on place place place your bets
Killing these mc's for bounty, yes I'm Bo Bo Fett
Im the shett can you smell you smell it yet
I make real music can you tell it yet
Living every day through the struggle the grind
Bottom line gotta grit your teeth never wine
Then one day you'll be sipping that fine wine
These Decepticons yeah im sworn to kill
I wanted an empire so I started to build
Always got a little ice on you can feel the chill
Always doing some exciting you can feel the thrill
Don't give us another rapper starting with a lil
Be great or not at all no Malcolm in the middle
Death tried to get me a few times with his sickle
Girls always playing games swear its so fickled
Im in a pickle trying to live large but feeling so little
Trying to be strong and get on sometimes so brittle
Sometimes every step I take is like quicksand no one to lend a hand
Gasping for air while you cowards ran
When it comes to take a stand only a few ever really remain man
Only a few you can trust with the plan
Most of yall just waiting for a hand
So stay sitting on the beach getting tan
I'll be in the booth
I'll be in the booth
I'll be in the booth working my ass off man
Pay attention its not the clothes you got on
It's about working from dusk till dawn
Helping out your little homies putting em on
Don't get me wrong now and then I hit the bong
Like Im a distant cousin of Cheech and wrong
To each his own some feels that's wrong
Please mind your business this is my song
I truly believe we all could get along
If we look with optimism instead of whats wrong
Beating down industry doors im King Kong
An to you fake mc's this is your swan song
Promoting violence and drugs you wanna be thugs
Whats wrong mama not give you any hugs
A fat kid so my mama only girl showed me love
Surviving the Times a day a time
Some days I swear im losing my mind
Driving barely staying in between the lines
I gotta go for greatness I cant ignore the signs
Why be a pawn when the whole damn board could be fine
Why would I not kill these Decepticons im Optimus Prime
They talk about it casually how the worlds run savagely
We all wanna be great, sadly only a few will be
An to be great alota people gotta get filthy
So you might be rich g bit that moneys filthy
Made with others blood and sweat
Leaving you with sleepless nights and alota regrets
Go on go on place place place your bets
Killing these mc's for bounty, yes I'm Bo Bo Fett
Im the shett can you smell you smell it yet
I make real music can you tell it yet
Living every day through the struggle the grind
Bottom line gotta grit your teeth never wine
Then one day you'll be sipping that fine wine
These Decepticons yeah im sworn to kill
I wanted an empire so I started to build
Always got a little ice on you can feel the chill
Always doing some exciting you can feel the thrill
Don't give us another rapper starting with a lil
Be great or not at all no Malcolm in the middle
Death tried to get me a few times with his sickle
Girls always playing games swear its so fickled
Im in a pickle trying to live large but feeling so little
Trying to be strong and get on sometimes so brittle
Sometimes every step I take is like quicksand no one to lend a hand
Gasping for air while you cowards ran
When it comes to take a stand only a few ever really remain man
Only a few you can trust with the plan
Most of yall just waiting for a hand
So stay sitting on the beach getting tan
I'll be in the booth
I'll be in the booth
I'll be in the booth working my ass off man
Credits
Writer(s): Zachary Fowler
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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