Notebook

I wake up in the morning and pray to god everyday
Hoping that stress that I have will surely fade away
I'm folding under pressure I feel it coming or maybe
I'm just getting better it's proly really nothing
I'll kimbo slice a nigga if I see him reach for something
The streets will have nigga buying coffins
Im crying out my tears the pain in my eyes is truly fierce
You give 34 shots I call it Paul pierce
Man I'm truth! I'm heaven sent I'm always in the booth
Cus my god is right in front of you check my point of view

But it's cool
I'm chasing paper nigga fuck this school
Cus they taking all money I'm not really in the mood

This a notebook wit mo hooks writing out my life it done turned into a hope book
I'm gettin all the vet time I'm no rook
I'm catching all the lame hoes that's still shook
It's hot up in the kitchen but I will cook
This my notebook I'm writing out life
So I gotta keep sharp so you feel it like a knife
Let's begin I'm never perfect everybody sin
Cus The ones you really fuck wit don't wanna see you win
Shit is deep but the crazy part the pain is changing me
Cus they wanna see you fall and they wanna see you bleed
I be locked up with stress I just wanna be free
I just wanna free
But that's the thang tho... my mind is on slomo
I grab the 9 I'm shooting all my shots just like rondo
Will I ever love again that is something that I don't know

I put my pride my aside and you crossed me
I'm crying out my tears cus the pain really hurt me

I'm off of a dat I'm on to better things and I'm sure of that
I found a great passion deep inside of rap
This my meal ticket and I'm eatin that

I'm chasing all these cheese but I'm not a rat
I need them racks

This a notebook wit mo hooks writing out my life it done turned into a hope book
I'm gettin all the vet time I'm no rook
I'm catching all the lame hoes that's still shook
It's hot up in the kitchen but I will cook



Credits
Writer(s): Travis Whitehead
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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