Lotta Praise (feat. Adrian Daniel & Rudy Catwell)
Hey, hey
Everything changes
Lotta praise, lotta praise, lotta traumatize
Lotta days, hit the lotto with no dollar sign
Got a name, got a name I immortalize
Gotta change, gotta change, need to call your line
Holding to this dream so long my fingernails got calloused
Got some peace, got some fear, I got balance
Fuck your shotty and your gang, I don't need the violence
Stopped being a toddler with problems, I gotta manage
Got some goals, I got some goals up in the dark still
I just cry myself to sleep, in morning I got heart still
I don't hold on to no beef, I let the Devil cartwheel
And she still say I got no heart still
Five out the four things you promisin' ain't legit
I can't hold you to your word every time you slip
All your friends only on the Internet, that's a glitch
I don't pay no mind to the evil and that's a gift
For really, I ain't never had the perfect Timbs
I ain't never been vulnerable to my friends
You slid in my ex's DM, took that to the chin
Never loved a girl that ain't start fuckin' him
Grim, know I'm the light but feel so fuckin' dim
And everything I wanna see gotta come from within
A double shot of whiskey turn everything to a twin
And every time I promise to do good I go and sin, but saying that
Gimme lotta praise, lotta traumatize
Lotta days, hit the lotto with no dollar sign
Lotta fame, lotta flame, lotta colonize
But I still can't be your shoulder when you gotta cry
I gotta be my own shoulder, cry
Yeti on your phone line, gimme cold shoulders, cry
I used to be a pimp on a Razor and Motorola
Now I'm like a rolling stone, I can't even call you home
I take the pain with the shame and I hug mama
I know the days when it came when the rent wasn't on time
But the pain made me want something
I longed for days that my parents get to see me in the high rise
So hold on, 'cause I got what you need
This just a story of a nigga from the NYC, yeah
Radamiz been losing daylight to bitches and business partners
The G-O-A-T author straight outta that Marcus Garvey
Need a New York Times column
Ain't ever fit my worth into a wallet
I go bench press,
the stress in a rap on the shit that still weighs in my conscience
Radamiz been cuttin' friends off, the celly just got some scissors
Radamiz don't sugar coat shit, the sonnets ain't got no Splenda
Radamiz gon' dive in pussy and swim right on up to Heaven
Being too kind gonna kill me, my grin is a MAC-11
My parents lookin at me like they thought I woulda blew already
Fuck I'm 25 now? I just was like 22 already
So much legwork,
bruises broke the bottom of my shoes already
Even finished NYU to prove that I could do that, too
Fam been losing patience, pack my show, show unconditional
Who in Mogul Club still? Damn, I gotta call up Critical
Fuck, I'm wildin'
Damn, I spent like close to 24 thousand dollars
God don't let me die at my job
Fuck a time sheet, my head a t-t-ticking time bomb
My mama used to pray I stopped rappin', gotta be a rap star
Gotta be a rap star, not a roach in public housing
My back stuck to the wall like these old-ass plastic couches
In my living room
In the mirror giving myself a fucking interview
Like "Are they really even feeling you?"
Only like 5'8" but got no one to look up to
They acknowledge that you winning
That don't mean that they all love you, bruh
Everyone I know letting their dreams die
Everyone I know letting their dreams die
Eight milli in my city show no love
You in your twin bed right now, but been sleeping on the one
Lotta praise, lotta praise for when my soul hurts
Like fuck the real life pain you feeling if it make a dope verse
I fear that I'm gon' be another 'Damn I thought he'd really blow'
My homie died before I went Platinum, that was my growth spurt
All y'all slept on my drive, but I forgive
I kill myself before you see me go quit
I got a fan up in my DM telling me my song just really saved his life
And I'm still worried bout littlest shit, littlest shit
Like getting lotta praise
For what? (For what?)
I don't need that, I don't need it
Nobody, nobody, nobody, nobody
Wish there was a way, to save their minds
God wait for me, I'm short of time
We've sunk so deep, sin's filled my lungs
Is there room up there? Can I bring some?
Everything changes
Lotta praise, lotta praise, lotta traumatize
Lotta days, hit the lotto with no dollar sign
Got a name, got a name I immortalize
Gotta change, gotta change, need to call your line
Holding to this dream so long my fingernails got calloused
Got some peace, got some fear, I got balance
Fuck your shotty and your gang, I don't need the violence
Stopped being a toddler with problems, I gotta manage
Got some goals, I got some goals up in the dark still
I just cry myself to sleep, in morning I got heart still
I don't hold on to no beef, I let the Devil cartwheel
And she still say I got no heart still
Five out the four things you promisin' ain't legit
I can't hold you to your word every time you slip
All your friends only on the Internet, that's a glitch
I don't pay no mind to the evil and that's a gift
For really, I ain't never had the perfect Timbs
I ain't never been vulnerable to my friends
You slid in my ex's DM, took that to the chin
Never loved a girl that ain't start fuckin' him
Grim, know I'm the light but feel so fuckin' dim
And everything I wanna see gotta come from within
A double shot of whiskey turn everything to a twin
And every time I promise to do good I go and sin, but saying that
Gimme lotta praise, lotta traumatize
Lotta days, hit the lotto with no dollar sign
Lotta fame, lotta flame, lotta colonize
But I still can't be your shoulder when you gotta cry
I gotta be my own shoulder, cry
Yeti on your phone line, gimme cold shoulders, cry
I used to be a pimp on a Razor and Motorola
Now I'm like a rolling stone, I can't even call you home
I take the pain with the shame and I hug mama
I know the days when it came when the rent wasn't on time
But the pain made me want something
I longed for days that my parents get to see me in the high rise
So hold on, 'cause I got what you need
This just a story of a nigga from the NYC, yeah
Radamiz been losing daylight to bitches and business partners
The G-O-A-T author straight outta that Marcus Garvey
Need a New York Times column
Ain't ever fit my worth into a wallet
I go bench press,
the stress in a rap on the shit that still weighs in my conscience
Radamiz been cuttin' friends off, the celly just got some scissors
Radamiz don't sugar coat shit, the sonnets ain't got no Splenda
Radamiz gon' dive in pussy and swim right on up to Heaven
Being too kind gonna kill me, my grin is a MAC-11
My parents lookin at me like they thought I woulda blew already
Fuck I'm 25 now? I just was like 22 already
So much legwork,
bruises broke the bottom of my shoes already
Even finished NYU to prove that I could do that, too
Fam been losing patience, pack my show, show unconditional
Who in Mogul Club still? Damn, I gotta call up Critical
Fuck, I'm wildin'
Damn, I spent like close to 24 thousand dollars
God don't let me die at my job
Fuck a time sheet, my head a t-t-ticking time bomb
My mama used to pray I stopped rappin', gotta be a rap star
Gotta be a rap star, not a roach in public housing
My back stuck to the wall like these old-ass plastic couches
In my living room
In the mirror giving myself a fucking interview
Like "Are they really even feeling you?"
Only like 5'8" but got no one to look up to
They acknowledge that you winning
That don't mean that they all love you, bruh
Everyone I know letting their dreams die
Everyone I know letting their dreams die
Eight milli in my city show no love
You in your twin bed right now, but been sleeping on the one
Lotta praise, lotta praise for when my soul hurts
Like fuck the real life pain you feeling if it make a dope verse
I fear that I'm gon' be another 'Damn I thought he'd really blow'
My homie died before I went Platinum, that was my growth spurt
All y'all slept on my drive, but I forgive
I kill myself before you see me go quit
I got a fan up in my DM telling me my song just really saved his life
And I'm still worried bout littlest shit, littlest shit
Like getting lotta praise
For what? (For what?)
I don't need that, I don't need it
Nobody, nobody, nobody, nobody
Wish there was a way, to save their minds
God wait for me, I'm short of time
We've sunk so deep, sin's filled my lungs
Is there room up there? Can I bring some?
Credits
Writer(s): Radhames Rodriguez, Adrian Daniel, Gabriel Monroe, Rudy Carino
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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