Tara Son

Wonder to his self like will a nigga Ever make it out
Came from in a basement now a Nigga sleeping onna couch
Left the couch and got a room
Still don't know what else to do
Pockets hurt
Feel like He leaching
Thinking bout his niggas leaving
Flash backs change a nigga breathing
Lost deep in his thought
Can't shake the doubt
That He won't make it out
Questioning his final day
Plotting to slide and twerk the k
When Brody died
Couldn't catch a break my
Heart telling em love
Brain said that boy
Can't live another day
Finger itching daily
He can't cope
So He pour up the hen
Percs got em feeling different
He get sluggish
And them demons win
Mask on and it's time to slide
Nobody ever ask em how he feels
So he keep it inside
Why the fuck would niggas vent
Battle scars been covers
Wounds still bleeding
But he represent
Pops den left his life
Guess he say that his son wasn't sht
Feel like he let his moma down
Never hear nobody proud
Going through the motions
I feel sick to many ups and downs
Got booked for his first show
Got on a plane
Last time he left ground
Now a nigga never up
Drugs Got me feeling stuck
I mean he was 16 fighting depression
First time he touched a cup
Teacher said He wasn't Sht
All you kno is street sht
Never A and B
They always keep me on that D list
Use to on that field
Now a nigga inna another field
Nigga use to tote the ball
Now a nigga tote the glock
Yard lines turned to Lines onna Bottles when he pour up the wok
Trynna stay up off the block
Got legit and punched the clock
Head aches got em crashing out
Overthinking Shit that ain't that deep
A nigga spazzing out
Finally found his passion now
Got closer to that mic
To talk his Shit
Cause won't no body listen
Cut off all the corners circle tight
Nobody see the vision
Chose between the streets
And that degree it was a hard Decision
People mad at wat he chose
Life is what you make it
Chasing dreams
Don't mean let others go
But he just trynna find his self
Constantly worried bout his wealth
Resulting back to robbing
Minimum wage won't change his Situation
Sticking niggas up
And dropping shit down
On that concrete pavement
Told em if he looking for hisself
Just go look in the mirror have a Conversation with the lord
And he be sure to hear ya
But he too impatient
Need it now
So he committing sins
He pray to the lord
But devil guide em'
When he doing drills
Trynna stay from up that road
From innocence to demon
It influenced all the Shit he wrote
Outside looking in and I can tell
That boy been hurt for years
Lost all of his niggas
And since then that boy been holding Tears
Den finally fixed
The flat that keep em' stuck
Feel good to shift the gears

Uk
And what I mean by that flat is
Removing everything around you That's hindering your elevation and Some of the Support be fake .some People be around you ain't there to See you win they there to See what They get out of the support they Gave.and some ain't around because They Don't believe in you in the first Place

Wonder to his self like will a nigga Ever make it out
Came from in a basement now a Nigga sleeping onna couch
Left the couch and got a room