Bryson Tiller - The Art Of Storytelling lyrics

[Intro] What up everybody Than y'all for tunin' in, uh And if you don't know This beat right here is called "The Art Of Storytelling" So I figured I'd tell mine I been doin' this sh*t for a long time, man Just tryna, you know, grow, grow the skill Get better at this sh*t Took me a while But I'm here now, man, I want y'all to understand one thing Ten years ago I promise you I did not sound like this You can go back and listen for yourself And ten years from now I can promise you I be a lot better than what I am right now But listen, yeah [Verse] I was seventeen, feelin' like I was the coldest I probably take thе Boulevard strollin' Bus stop to the studio, I'm goin' Knowin' I had school in the mornin' I couldn't hеlp but feel like that I was chosen Concrete, you could say I was the rose in it And you could say the music had to pedals open My flow was sh*t, but I was too broke to quit My hope was this Make a mixtape, put over general songs And make a record where they say "Who wrote this" Maybe send a jet to a ni**a who is focused Still hopeless, I rather chill with the vultures Than chill with these ni**as who ain't on sh*t If you crabs in the bucket, I be homeless Swiftly a home free Don't pinch me, it won't flinch me Big dreams, ni**a, sip tea, you ain't with me Never got signed, well, 'til I met Bas You can say he was sensei in my eyes Let me say "Rest in peace", never seen eye to eye Keep the words of advice to me 'til I die I treat my words like a knife I know they cut deep, and some times even they cut me I hate thinkin' 'bout things that I said back then I know that will never lead to a jet-black Benz But this a jet-black Benz So I don't even think 'bout the setbacks when I know I'm finna do better Put my pen to the paper and sent you a letter And that was T R A P S O U L, baby Well, look at me know and where did that go, baby? I put on the town, and look at Jack ol' baby Ain't that so crazy? Man, them teachers really had us thinkin' rap don't pay Now we rackin' up, stackin' up, paper packin' up And lady I'm mad that you hated And now you want to be back of the stage And askin' a favor, but I can not relax with a hater I ain't have it figured out, I was lackin' in data I had to gather it, got it, now my rap is immaculate Rappers is mad, they ain't tryna give me no dab Just riddle me that That's why I say the industry wack I don't look up to ni**as no more, the symmetry back I'm not wide-eyed no more, the image collapsed I don't see it how I used to Please don't expect me to be how I used to Please just respect me I'm seein' through the fufu-lame sh*t that you do And you got the nerve to try to school me, I school you Flew to my city with a loose screw Thinkin' 'bout when I was seventeen on YouTube Thinkin' 'bout how I had a dream And how everything ain't everything it seems Still I'm carryin' this dream to the end [Outro] Like I said, man, everything ain't always what it seems I had a lot of hopes, a lot of dreams Lot of expectations for this music sh*t And Lord, may not have turned out exactly how I expected I can still say, man, I'm havin' a ton of fun with this sh*t So if you came here with no expectations And you eh, came to just see a, an artist be an artist Man, I gotta say thank you You know, 'cause this has always been a dream right here, man Bein' able to let my thoughts off, say whatever I want That's how I started in this sh*t, man, seventeen years old fu*kin' just downloadin' beats from YouTube, vibin' Just tryna be heard, man It's Halloween, I get to be whoever the fu*k I wanna be And if you came here today expectin' anything else Then turn this sh*t off, my ni**a, this is Killer Instinct 2