THIS

This song was supposed to be called slow ride
For more than one reason
Take these lines literally and figuratively
Apply to life
Ride safely
Slow ride, low eyes, just listen
To my voice, as I walk, the bass kicking
Too smooth, I can't stop, cause they wishing
Climbed outta the same pot, that they pissed in
My past is too dark had no vision
No dreams, had no heart, and no riches
Stayed true without lies, and no fiction
Changed up my whole life with decisions
I can tell you bout the dimes I bagged
Or I can kick another rhyme bout when the times were bad
I can tell you bout me flipping P's
Yea I can you bout the b's steady dissing me
Tell the world that I'm busting chops
Or am I talking bout the girls when they bust my chops
I can tell you bout the dimes I bagged
Or I can kick another rhyme bout when the times were bad
No food, no lights, is this living
Two cats chase the mice in my kitchen
Hoodrats on my mind but they dissing
Quickly had to learn how to mind my business
No rent, this time, eviction
Burnt bread make dark smoke from addiction
My words and these lines are descriptive
Read between the lines cause these rhymes are so vivid
So vicious, ice cold, I'm cold wit it
Anything I want, I get up and go get it
Listen to the beat of ya heart and flow wit it
And when the punches come I step back and roll wit em
I'm showing them, cause some people just don't see it
Open up ya eyes, the wise, will believe it
They pray on ya demise but the high does not see it
You could handout a whole book with the answers, they won't read it
Slow ride, no rush, full stops
Seat back, one arm, doors locked
No talking, only play music if it knocks
And don't forget to check ya rear view for loose cops
Organize the thoughts in ya head and just keep riding
If you whippin at the tempo I'm kicking, you speed driving
If you listen to the kitchen, I'm cooking, the heat rising
And the beat is but a bucket of oil, I'm deep frying

Got the boys creepin, boys beefin, that boys vegan
More breathing, more eating... that's
More scheming
They all peeping, all dreaming... that's more reasons
Don't tell me bout the money you making, how much you keeping
I'm just four seasons, feeding my family, we all eating
Busy floor sweeping, cleaning the floors from more demons
But the doors creaking, boards squeaking, that boys tweaking
I'm just painting out a picture
The Hatred In Succeeding