[Verse: Francois Dillinger]
Ink spilling in my notebook, it's blood for the pain
Writing these raps, trying to bring about some change
So f** a sleeve, i'll pour my heart out on this page
These verses are my life I live them out everyday
Look, talk that bullsh** i'll cut you off like Kendrick
Cause everybody knows I pull strings like Jimi Hendrix
The devil's advocate, but the Lord's angel
If I'm employed by both, it's hard to remain faithful
See I can feed you food for thought. Here, here's a plateful
But you can't stomach that sh** cause the truth's so spiteful
At times I feel like Cobain, wanna grab the riffle
But on top of my head is that motherf**ing lightbulb
Reminding me of my sister, saying I can't leave her
So I just punch a whole in the wall & burn that reefer
Monsters in my head I wanna k** 'em with a bullet
& since I can't do that I have to put up with their bullsh**
Rest In Peace to my motherf**ing father
Even tough after he f**ed my mother he couldn't be bothered
I'm Francois now, the whole enchilada
They thought the devil walked way I was rocking that Prada
They say money talks & you ain't saying nada
Tryna k** me i'll show you the whole die hard saga
I'm Bruce Willis on the beat, blowing sh** up
Spit the raw truth, they candy coat they sh** up
Told my lil' sister, "keep your chin up"
At the age of 11 she's already seen enough
The sh** i've seen, would make Stevie wonder
Cause the sh** i've seen makes me envy Stevie Wonder
It's kinda f**ed up how it all turns out
When everybody's left you with your spirit burnt out
All my blood sweat & tears
My pain through out the years
Now I'm standing face to face with my fears
Fresh fade, v neck, chinos with some loafers
Spliff & a double cup, I'm starting to lose my focus
bu*t naked women, sniffing up some co*ka
You ain't affiliated, you just rubbing shoulders
Cups in both hands I'm f**ing ambidextrous
Women in abundance, we don't let 'em stress up
Goons in the back incase some n***as test us
But they don't usually, they ain't got the testies
f** these n***as, tryna be my besties
Not a pretty n***a but b**hes think I'm s**y
Well dressed n***a, GQ type of dude
Brim low, shades on, I'm tryna keep my cool
But, touch my fam & i'll murder ya'
We be straight up in your house like the furniture
Over 100 degrees man i'll furnace ya
My ear's to the streets, but I ain't heard of ya
Frankie ..