Stop! Being! Scared!

Such a regular occurrence, young nigga imma flourish
Momma told me she was worried
I'll probably go hit the curb before they hurt me, it's not serious
I'm probably still too nervous for that flashlight circus
Modern superstar nigga, Hang my shit up there with 30's
Weak niggas closing out
I'll Leave they remains buried, them 2-3 zones a only get you sent home
Game five I had 40, barely held on
They still looking at me wrong like I held out
In game six, had 57 and 11, battle test
The next series I ain't even break a sweat

Don't fret, my brain levels high enough to led the west
I won't let distain levels change my nature when I'm stressed
That meaning I could be the president
Corrupted as a youth, I guess that Reagan set the precedent forth
Remain benevolent, my momma raised a gangster of course
That lady saint to the core
Want me to have decorum, I'm black, frustrated, and bored
Don't spend no time on forums, they giving lames a reward



Credits
Writer(s): Umar Ramadan
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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