Open Jar

Q,U

A lot to say, I don't speak
Got to get, got to be
Lots to see lots to pray
Lost my seat, lost my way

Not a freak, though it may
Seem like it somedays
Mean writing, propane
Don't need help in no way, yo

My soul sold for its own sake
Quote quote, for its own sake
Broke broke, like a throw away
Like a tug boat that couldn't pull its weight

But I'm so dope, got my own strain
You can smoke my hope and feel no pain
Like I deal cocaine, or coco
I'm cold as your nose full of snow when it froze, woah

Everything that go down come back up
Keep that in my mind when I act up
Strut backwards from a scrap when I man up
Thats a true sack up for a sick pup

Listen to the friction, it interrupts like a Hiccup
Miss the days, PBJ's cut it diagonals like bishops
Sick of the sentiment, since a kid I been an instrument of change
Reminiscent on the past, looking passed all of that pain

Afterwards in the afternoon your bout as good gone to,
The afterlife with sack of dice, only chance is blind luck
Like mice, times flies when you fry rice
A watched pot never boils but a watch clock still ticks, yo

Like a bomb bout to blow like dynamite
You're 'bout as bomb as your bright, and you lit like a light with a boner for a bulb and a Stoner for a mind
Closing the curtains like I'm cleaning my closet

And I don't like what I find
So I wrote rhymes for a couple lives
Now I won't die, until I struggle to stride
And my ego gon pop like a bubble of pride

Reaching for the top, dog I'm trouble with eyes
Seeking out what I watch, like I'm in love with prize
Reaping what I've sought, I've got a lot on my mind
A lot on my mind...

What a run of the rut, got something to shove
Kept it tucked like a gun, I'm the son of the sun

Lot to say, I don't speak
Got to get, got to be
Lots to see lots to pray
Lost my seat, lost my way

Not a freak, though it may
Seem like it somedays
Mean writing, propane
Don't need help n no way



Credits
Writer(s): Cameron Johnson
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

Link