[Verse 1: Erik Giovani]
This that split conscious, 3 options
Hold up, every day i'm walking
The fine line, between my life, and what I idolize
Keeps me watching
Split conscious, keep on breeding this eavesdropping
Now we knocking down the door, f** a plea bargain
Living in a bubble, grew up in the CO but we know my pops had go through the struggle
Had to go and hustle the shuttle
Now we came up from the rubble, like a phoenix from the ashes
How would you know when you're always trying to s**le
Milk from the motherf**ing hustle, listen
[Chorus: Erik]
What they owe us?
40 acre bonus?
Poorly aided groceries?
Quarter ghetto POTUS?
What they owe us?
40 acre bonus?
Poorly aided groceries?
Quarter ghetto POTUS?
[Verse 2: Erik]
I'm two halves, but one half wanna stand with my brothers in the badlands
But listen, I'm a a**hat with some mad hands
Cooking beats in the kitchen like a bada**, now my dad's mad
Cuz' dad want a grad with a lucrative major
And i'm just trying to savor life and it's flavors
And he's preaching to me education will save you
“I never had them shots like you so take them”
I'm cruising in a V-Dub
Using it, delivering pizzas, don't want to be us
Tip me off like a squealer
Back to the shop for the re-up
Money in the bank like peanuts
sh**, How am i gonna pay for school with pepperoni, pepperoncini, meetups?
Bernie give me some free books
Cuz' how am I going to make it the real world, you's a real one
[Chorus]
[Outro: The Souls of Black Folk, W.E.B. Du Bois)
“It is a peculiar sensation, this double-consciousness, this sense of always looking at one's self through the eyes of others, of measuring one's soul by the tape of a world that looks on in amused contempt and pity. One ever feels his two-ness,—an American, a Negro; two souls, two thoughts, two unreconciled strivings; two warring ideals in one dark body, whose dogged strength alone keeps it from being torn asunder.”