5AM Freestyle
Tired playing nice, I need my independence
I saw you loiter round my doorstep, I just had to floor it
I called your mama, said you had a problem and she know it
You made me ready for the sentence, one I wouldn't finish
Like the time when I was 12, livin' at the apartments
I ran away from all my friends cus they weren't important
I turn the corner, saw my dad in blue and black patrol cars
I had to wait 3 years so that I could call 'em
The damage done, what's left is quality control
Satisfaction guaranteed, the product of a broken home
That's how it's been, that's how it was, that's all it could be
Am I wrong? Disciples long before me wrote the psalms
I was gone even before it started, that's the tenet of the system
Directed under supervision, high-cost pay per view
I'll be damned, the contenders gon' continue the match
They think it's a bruise, internal bleeding wrapped to masses
And concealed in a hue darker than most, seems to be true
I ain't the type to boast, more into the brew
You want the smoke but can't afford a 4th of wedding cake, shoot
Why bother, I'm the lyrical Medusa
So whatever I rhyme is set in stone
You be foolish, too pathetic
Cus you airball your shots
Off rim, wrong tone
Next time, leave it to the military drones
They got a better aim with the scope
I saw you loiter round my doorstep, I just had to floor it
I called your mama, said you had a problem and she know it
You made me ready for the sentence, one I wouldn't finish
Like the time when I was 12, livin' at the apartments
I ran away from all my friends cus they weren't important
I turn the corner, saw my dad in blue and black patrol cars
I had to wait 3 years so that I could call 'em
The damage done, what's left is quality control
Satisfaction guaranteed, the product of a broken home
That's how it's been, that's how it was, that's all it could be
Am I wrong? Disciples long before me wrote the psalms
I was gone even before it started, that's the tenet of the system
Directed under supervision, high-cost pay per view
I'll be damned, the contenders gon' continue the match
They think it's a bruise, internal bleeding wrapped to masses
And concealed in a hue darker than most, seems to be true
I ain't the type to boast, more into the brew
You want the smoke but can't afford a 4th of wedding cake, shoot
Why bother, I'm the lyrical Medusa
So whatever I rhyme is set in stone
You be foolish, too pathetic
Cus you airball your shots
Off rim, wrong tone
Next time, leave it to the military drones
They got a better aim with the scope
Credits
Writer(s): Mark Jon Harris
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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