[Verse 1: Chance The Rapper]
|
Ten damn days
|
And all I got to show for it is shoes and shows and chauffeurs with road rage
|
Still the same damn ad-lib: IGH!, always
|
Still gotta letterman, no practice
|
Still gotta burner man, no lacking
|
Still outtin Jams nigga, no Jackson
|
No Jordan and we toe-tagging
|
I'll take you to land, where the lake made of sand
|
And the milk don't pour and the honey don't dance
|
And the money ain't yours
|
Now it's just a red pill,
|
Got a blue and a hand full of Advils
|
I'm the new Nitty, fuck it Nitty the the old me
|
So I'm a tell the buyer what Nitty told me
|
|
[Hook 1:]
|
I got that Mmm Mmm
|
I got that God damn
|
I'm yo pusha man
|
I'm yo, I'm yo pusha man
|
Pimp slapping, toe taggin
|
I'm just tryna fight the man
|
I'm yo pusha man
|
I'm yo, I'm yo pusha man [x2]
|
|
[Verse 2:]
|
You a laaaaaaaame, and your bitch break down my weed sometimes
|
See my face in the streets, in the tweets
|
And a Reader or a Redeye if you read Sun-Times
|
She got blisters on her knees, she's a fiend for the D
|
Even though I only beat one time
|
One time it was one two times
|
It was two plus me equals threesome time
|
Shouts out to Nate, I jackball and I bop, I flex
|
Got neck from all these thots I sex
|
Rastafari them shottas yes
|
House safari, mi casa, yes
|
Poppy fields of that popeye
|
She came to party, she popped a Molly
|
Said "come to papa", she said "papa, yes"
|
|
[Hook 1]
|
|
[Hook 2:]
|
I've been riding around with my blunt on my lips
|
With the sun in my eyes, and my gun on my hip
|
Paranoia on my mind, got my mind on the fritz
|
But a lotta niggas dying, so my 9 with the shits [x2]
|
|
[Verse 3:]
|
Move to the neighborhood, I bet they don't stay for good, watch
|
Somebody'll steal daddy's rollie, and call it the neighborhood watch
|
Pray for a safer hood when my paper good, watch
|
Captain save the hood, hood savior, baby boy, still get ID'd for swishers
|
Mama still wash my clothes, still with Save Money militia
|
I'm a still watch my bros
|
Trapped in the middle of the map, with a little bitty rock
|
And a little bit of rap
|
That with a literary knack and a little shitty Mac
|
And like literally jack
|
|
[Hook 2]
|
|
[Verse 4:]
|
They murking kids, they murder kids here
|
Why you think they don't talk about it? They deserted us here
|
Where the fuck is Matt Lauer at? Somebody get Katie Couric in here
|
Probably scared of all the refugees, look like we had a fucking hurricane here
|
They be shooting whether it's dark or not, I mean the days is pretty dark a lot
|
Down here it's easier to find a gun than it is to find a fucking parking spot
|
No love for the opposition, specifically a cop position,
|
Cause they've never been in our position
|
Getting violations for the nation, correlating, you dry snitching
|
|
[Hook 2]
|
|
[Breakdown:]
|
I know you scared, you should ask us if we scared, too.
|
I know you scared, me too.
|
I know you scared, you should ask us if we scared, too.
|
If you was there, then we just knew you'd care, too.
|
|
[Verse 5:]
|
It just got warm out, this this shit I've been warned about.
|
I hope that it storm in the morning, I hope that it's pouring out.
|
I hate crowded beaches, I hate the sound of fireworks.
|
And I ponder what's worse between knowing it's over and dying first.
|
Cause everybody dies in the summer.
|
Wanna say ya goodbyes, tell them while it's spring.
|
I heard everybody's dying in the summer, so pray to God for a little more spring.
|
|
I know you scared, you should ask us if we scared, too.
|
If you was there, then we just knew you'd care, too.
|
|
-----------------
|
Pusha Man / Paranoia
|
| Chance The Rapper |