Chapel of Self

Yeah yeah yeah
Yeah yeah umm

The games like watercolors, am I drowning or drawing
Cuz I'm doubting myself, when I'm feeling the rawest
This ain't good for my health, yeah I'll say it, I'll call it
Don't know if I'm going up or looking down and I'm falling

I can't tell

But either way I do it so well
Either magic for the game or I'm under the spell
Promised I'd never tell but I believe in myself
So if I'm taking this L then I'm deceiving myself

I can't take that,
Grab the belt where's my waist at
Face facts, I paid for the oil that the snake had
I still have the same stats, no one plays that
Take a look at my bar I had to raise that

And I'm not hitting the charts but shit I say facts
Take a look at these stars I know I ain't that
I'm just playing my part and I can't fake that
Wait you think this song is a start?
Nah I hate that

So tell me why do I do it
I keep on making this music, no influence
Just a problem that I can't leave unproven

And I'm improving

But moving up has been a disaster
Swear I'm killing the game if it ain't killing me faster

Just another rapper caught in the mix

I ain't shit but I'm trying to be big

(I wanna be big)

The stars is where I aimed as a kid

But they don't tell you what to do if you miss

(I'll keep on wishing)

Funny how the way that I talk to myself changes
Waging war on myself, my mind's dangerous
Think my cadence needs help, it's too basic
I just hope my hate for myself could fuel greatness

Said I wouldn't drown in my mound of hang ups
Sundown work till it comes round to raise up
My pals at the house early practicing layups
Maybe we're both clowns for hoping our dreams save us (honk honk)

And I don't say much cause I'd rather let my work talk
Used to hoop too but I didn't have the vert dog
So I work hard to make all of my work art
Swinging for the fences but life keeps throwing curve balls

Swerve off
To park and write these stanzas
Heard you were broke, well me too, let's man up
Yeah I want the ice and the gift but I'm not Santa
Hoping if I'm rich I could stop throwing these tantrums

But I'm still mad about it
All the doubt and empty promises that fall around me
Thought I'd make it by the fall but now my schedule's crowded
Thoughts are running through my head, I think they got a bounty
Toughness that's my only talent

Jackson is my fucking son,
And so is fucking Matt yeah