Black Will Hunting
Rhyme drops got grime on my socks
Unwind wipe time off the clocks
Grinding the rocks down to a sandlot
Your prints on a wack manuscript and my hands not
They said nah he'll never be done
Believe in the son, syndicate the rerun
Worth a couple hundred mil in relative wealth
Urban myth felt made a tall tale of himself
Maintained circulation through the drought, see
You ain't gotta ask, they was just talking bout me
We made it hot, not for the station
Just for the stake in thought provocation
Plot for the biz, got what it is?
Problem ain't his, y'all not my kids
Repeat and let the track kill something
I'm through tryna teach y'all, Black Will Hunting
You gotta raise your own hand
Beg your own pardon
You gotta sow your own seeds
Grow your own garden
You gotta make your own moves
Book your own travels
Pick your own fruit
Now, how you like them apples?
Booked a thousand miles on the hook
Styles on the lookout, clout chasers afoot
They on the hunt, they need a look
Sit your ass down motherfucker read a book
They never really got the most of me
Workforce mostly, not doing what he supposed to be
A genius out his own inquisitive
Awareness. It's some savant ijit
His motive is legit tho
Kept it low from the get go, knew it was a shitshow
Nah bro, got a win I can't split wit you
You're not crew, let me through we got shit to do
Schemes plotted to me it seems obvious we
Run it autonomously, supreme sloppy-ness
He off of this and leave the track still bumpin'
I'm though tryna teach y'all, Black Will Hunting
Unwind wipe time off the clocks
Grinding the rocks down to a sandlot
Your prints on a wack manuscript and my hands not
They said nah he'll never be done
Believe in the son, syndicate the rerun
Worth a couple hundred mil in relative wealth
Urban myth felt made a tall tale of himself
Maintained circulation through the drought, see
You ain't gotta ask, they was just talking bout me
We made it hot, not for the station
Just for the stake in thought provocation
Plot for the biz, got what it is?
Problem ain't his, y'all not my kids
Repeat and let the track kill something
I'm through tryna teach y'all, Black Will Hunting
You gotta raise your own hand
Beg your own pardon
You gotta sow your own seeds
Grow your own garden
You gotta make your own moves
Book your own travels
Pick your own fruit
Now, how you like them apples?
Booked a thousand miles on the hook
Styles on the lookout, clout chasers afoot
They on the hunt, they need a look
Sit your ass down motherfucker read a book
They never really got the most of me
Workforce mostly, not doing what he supposed to be
A genius out his own inquisitive
Awareness. It's some savant ijit
His motive is legit tho
Kept it low from the get go, knew it was a shitshow
Nah bro, got a win I can't split wit you
You're not crew, let me through we got shit to do
Schemes plotted to me it seems obvious we
Run it autonomously, supreme sloppy-ness
He off of this and leave the track still bumpin'
I'm though tryna teach y'all, Black Will Hunting
Credits
Writer(s): Kenyatto Ward
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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