Transitions
(How do you want it)
(How do you feel)
(Comin' up as a nigga in the cash game)
(Livin' in the fast lane, ah, for real)
(How do you want it)
(How do you feel)
(Comin' up as a nigga in the cash game)
(Livin' in the fast lane, ah, for real)
This growin' up shit kinda blows, damn
Who the fuck invited Uncle Sam, man
And when did it become a chore to make friends
I don't really wanna mature and make ends meet
(How do you want it)
How it was
(How do you feel) I'm good
It's just crazy how
We were all in such a hurry to grow up (haha)
First crush left a little mark on the boy (ooh)
Only had fears of the dark and the story
Of the one who let it slip right through his grasp
I ain't talkin' bout the tit in the 6th-grade class (aahhh)
Only got pressed on the field or the court
I miss when my only goal was being cool at my sport
Only Molly I knew yea she was rockin' the jorts
And all this shit that I do man I miss being bored
This growin' up shit kinda blows, damn
Who the fuck invited Uncle Sam, man
And when did it become a chore to make friends
I don't really wanna mature and make ends meet
Swore it to the boy that I knew
I would never end up in this rat race like you
(Nah fuck that)
Don't want it mapped out
Cause I wanna black out
Pull some ladies out
Nick Cannon in her mouth
I'm just goin' in, they livin' in pretend
Golden State fast break we transitionin' (yuh)
Transitioning from fittin' in to standin' out
Don't provide shade cabana I'm branchin' out
Hittin' all the marks that scared me as a youngin'
Trippin' when I spark I maybe have to cut it
Don't hit like it used to
Damn I miss the fool who
Smoked and played ball all summer
And tell father time he got a runner
Da-damn
Who the fuck invited Uncle Sam
And when did it become a chore to make friends
I don't really wanna mature and make ends meet
(How do you want it)
(How do you feel)
(Comin' up as a nigga in the cash game)
(Livin' in the fast lane, ah, for real)
(How do you feel)
(Comin' up as a nigga in the cash game)
(Livin' in the fast lane, ah, for real)
(How do you want it)
(How do you feel)
(Comin' up as a nigga in the cash game)
(Livin' in the fast lane, ah, for real)
This growin' up shit kinda blows, damn
Who the fuck invited Uncle Sam, man
And when did it become a chore to make friends
I don't really wanna mature and make ends meet
(How do you want it)
How it was
(How do you feel) I'm good
It's just crazy how
We were all in such a hurry to grow up (haha)
First crush left a little mark on the boy (ooh)
Only had fears of the dark and the story
Of the one who let it slip right through his grasp
I ain't talkin' bout the tit in the 6th-grade class (aahhh)
Only got pressed on the field or the court
I miss when my only goal was being cool at my sport
Only Molly I knew yea she was rockin' the jorts
And all this shit that I do man I miss being bored
This growin' up shit kinda blows, damn
Who the fuck invited Uncle Sam, man
And when did it become a chore to make friends
I don't really wanna mature and make ends meet
Swore it to the boy that I knew
I would never end up in this rat race like you
(Nah fuck that)
Don't want it mapped out
Cause I wanna black out
Pull some ladies out
Nick Cannon in her mouth
I'm just goin' in, they livin' in pretend
Golden State fast break we transitionin' (yuh)
Transitioning from fittin' in to standin' out
Don't provide shade cabana I'm branchin' out
Hittin' all the marks that scared me as a youngin'
Trippin' when I spark I maybe have to cut it
Don't hit like it used to
Damn I miss the fool who
Smoked and played ball all summer
And tell father time he got a runner
Da-damn
Who the fuck invited Uncle Sam
And when did it become a chore to make friends
I don't really wanna mature and make ends meet
(How do you want it)
(How do you feel)
(Comin' up as a nigga in the cash game)
(Livin' in the fast lane, ah, for real)
Credits
Writer(s): Tristan Joya, Tupac Shakur
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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