LAKE GENEVA

Something's telling me I ain't that shit
Something's telling me I fucked up big
Something's telling me I hate the pigs
Something's telling me I need some cigs

I don't want no one to own me
I just need me and my homies
No I don't fuck wit the cronies
Them bitches be takin my trophies

Who needs a Benz I got nowhere to go
I don't really post much nothing to show
Search for validity everyone's ghost
I just want honesty fore I go broke

I don't want no one to own me
I just need someone to hold me
Keeping me grounded on both feet
If not I'll get lost while I'm roaming

Not totally broken
Yeah I'm just coasting
My biggest fear is mediocre
I'd rather be last than lost
I cannot reverse the frost
I don't even have a sauce
I answer to a boss
I worry bout the cost

I am an average man that pains me
Walk in a gas station unfazed
I do not worry bout my walks
I do not think before I talk
I go to shows and I'm not watched
Fuck a Rolex I ain't got one watch
Wish on stars for what I want
Got big dreams I should talk to god
Can't pretend that I am not flawed
Hold my hand with a lightning rod
That'll wake me up fore I do my job
I'm so damn bored might join the mob
Don't tell my mom
Cause she might sob
I'm wishing I was smart
So I could fly my ass to mars
Cause for fame I need some bars
Hol' up

I don't want no one to own me
I can't live a life that I'm loaning
Stick to myself never cloning
Looking on back cause their missiles are homing

Like Jim Carrey said, I hope you make it big
and find the problems you running from probably still exist
A Summer home in Geneva probably ain't the fix
But if that's the dream that you gunning for then let's step to this
More money more problems
I don't got no love for me but the brick gonna solve it
They don't view my shit IG but a hit could solve it
I say this shit Scary Close for me, that book I bought it
I say I just need 10 days I think my Chance at profit
Ay na na na na na na na na
I hope Chicago love me city lovely na na
With Chance, it's love I just wanna get
At the fact that everybody round me wants to be the shit
Free the kid, always feelin like he never seem to fit
Wondering if music could help him find what he need to get
Freedom is, painting the ceiling ever he deeming fit
Knowing that his mommy and daddy love it because it's him
Randy P my Lecture kid spill shit that shits whatever,
Please don't yell at your son even if that fuckin shit was leather ay,
Car is just an object, you should love him better
Otherwise he might be stuck chasing that Geneva forever.



Credits
Writer(s): Lucas Goodman
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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