conflicted

Jump, jump, jump, jump, jump, jump
I don't see myself keeping it college, i'ma be honest (Yeah)
I'm too addicted to commas
I'm too conflicted with options
I got so much on my mind, which I'd rather not try converse
I'm just tryna write shit
Walking through sediment times to force a footstep out the dirt
And tireless nights
I parked the pickup and lawn cared the Crowne Plaza prolly ponderin' how I could
(What is Jordan doing?! Ooh)
Hyphen, y'all niggas telling tales taller than Tyvin
Stretching shit, I've seen the hell of it
I'll reign forever, whether or not heaven hit
Fuck all the politics, cops, and astronomers
Pissy since they can't law a star that fell on them, dawg
I'm tryna look good, not feel good
I'd burn myself out for five million (Five million)
My girl said I'm stressed out and I can feel it (can feel it)
I'm tryna see a show sell out attendance
And still somehow send my momma a ticket (ticket)
I'm peepin' it now
My vision more revealing without crowds
Of people thinking they make noise, and just loud
I know the family proud of Cortez, so fuck every coach
Attached to the people I love, I'm ducking the average, doing the most, bitch
I'm finally back outside, and I don't see y'all ass or shit that you spoke, bitch
That's my fault for believing talk isn't cheap when niggas is

(Heal me)
Yeah (Save me)
Law of fucking averages (Sanctify me)
Turn me up (Set me free)

I done asked God one too many times for forgiveness
Fuck it, the black coupe is tinted
I'm pushing past 65 on Old Chatham Road
By where the ops stay like I don't pay taxes and loans
But chilling as if I was home
Heart growing icy and I can't spread salt in the snow
So fuck it, I'm logged off a phone
Ain't talking in cells like I'm off of parole
I vividly, picture memories of middle school
Spitting at lunch tables burgundy, perched under trees
I'm workin' now and all I see is these verses
When I blink a pen, it ain't puffing weed
Don't get F'd up since you ain't get the lesson
'Cause you real desperate just to teach, bitch
I promise it ain't that deep, if I hit rock bottom I just dug too deep, bitch
Nah, my cousin in spirit, I wanted to die
And I would fake my death, but now I'm too alive
Two hundred pile the party from outside
Milwaukee taught a nigga to survive
The 'field where niggas keep a drac' but don't josh
This isn't comedy, get yo ass shot
Tryna keep count who beside me became its own hobby
I'm tryna buy me, six, seven, eight whips for family
If he try to skate, make him flip, hit an ollie
I'm hawking the snakes in they own grass, own body
Man, my pops said "fake niggas ain't real sporadic"
Just look around, it's pop culture utopia
Pop on IG, but I know that you timid bruh
Old bitches tryna text but they minutes up
Fuck 'em, they dead to me, no necrophilia
Nasty Cortez, the flow is erect
My manager told me "Get dressed, quit falling asleep at the desk"
Eyes closed in class, you niggas thought you had drive, but who really attract with Checks?
Who really walking around with the torch
Touching it straight to they mufuckin necks?
Sophomore year was a God given test
Had to show Him that I'm coming correct
Niggas loading Macs but shooting through Windows
A new woman widowed, a new nigga dead
Nothing ain't new nigga, who gon' be next?
How can I breathe for the ones with no breath?
How can I take my momma out of stress?
Putting in reps, it's natural to flex
I'm putting in reps, I'm back with a flex
I'm putting in reps, it's natural to (flex)



Credits
Writer(s): Jordan Stewart
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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