1 Day

I remember the days, when I didn't have a pot to piss in
Still shittin on the opposition, hoping and wishing
That one day my time goin come
Hoping and wishing that, one day my time goin come
We done hoping and waiting for it, we bout to take it
We ain't gotta be ya favorite, but we bout to make it
Looking past all the hatred, everybody's trapped in the matrix
Let's take em back to the bases

I felt overlooked in the past, an outcast to popularity
Never submit to weak shit, these critics can't stop comparing me
The music I spit is therapy, suitable for the air I breathe
Moving forward to better things, sauce to my recipe
I wanted longevity with my feta cheese
So I had to grind to get mines, even taking out emcees
Cause when you reach out and try to collaborate
And they deny ya, then you drop fire, them niggas have to hate
Silently, cause the vibes come off so violently
No misguided advisories tapping inside the light I see
Apologies, I wont accept it, just hit the exit
Next in line to talk about mines in a rhythm, you'll sign your death wish
But flexin and recklessness ain't the best of this
I'm destined for greatness, with no patience left and the message is
Stuck in the bottle across the ocean
With no hopes of getting opened to show the world what you know

I remember the days, when I didn't have a pot to piss in
Still shittin on the opposition, hoping and wishing
That one day my time goin come
Hoping and wishing that, one day my time goin come
We done hoping and waiting for it, we bout to take it
We ain't gotta be ya favorite, but we bout to make it
Looking past all the hatred, everybody's trapped in the matrix
Let's take em back to the bases

I remember the days, when I didn't have a pot to piss in
Still shittin on the opposition, hoping and wishin that
One day the sun goin shine
Look mama in her eyes and said bumb a 9 to 5 ma, yo son goin rhyme
Shine so bright, that I can make the sun go blind
If a nigga hatin, imma hit em where the sun don't shine
Pause, its J Wall, got em all up on my balls
I be pissin outside, cause I ain't got the time to stall
Wait, no cell phone, you still might have to make a call
Just a part of growing up, you can slip but never fall
I'm never trippin off a broad
I just get in the booth and do my thing, soon as the engineer hit record
Powder that's power, giving hater lead showers
Now we at ya Cemetery plot, about to spread flowers
Blood on the money turn them blue bills to red dollars
Nigga if you all about your bread holla

I remember the days
I remember the days