Cyne - Scattered lyrics

[Verse 1: Akin] It's like me versus tragedy. I don't know, man Where do I belong in this? I need to find home. Can Somebody help me? Soul search is hard work No pay and I hurt I hurt—that's from open wounds. But hope to blow soon So I can stop b**hing ‘bout the life and sing a happy tune “Like eeny, meeny, miny, moe” Nope, hip hop is lost. n***as kidnapped the flow And blow smoke to hear the little voice too shy to speak Imagination run, run to Enoch beat And beat life to a n***a either dead-asleep The martyr and the fool—I rep both in my speech That's Kwame and the house. N-word, I can't repeat That's fame on the hill. Baby, view so sweet A future ideal k**ed—ear to the street Bump. Y'all awaiting that new sh**, new sh** That tried and true sh**, it's true, sh** Ever since Time Being, it seems that I'm seeing Love and hate on the block, co*k-kissing—I'm fleeing Play this when I'm back home (back home) But ‘til then, bless the catalog—I'm gone [Bridge 1: Akin] Can't crash into it. Keep left, we rep and move it Moving sideways—no never. Alright, sound like so clever They, they so all like, “They, they popular” Can't be popular [Verse 2: Cise Star] I want clean “Water for Chocolate” flowing outta the faucet ‘Cause sweets can't sustain my thirst for first knowledge Tired of the garbage, but sift through for honest But I gotta pay homage to those who rose polished Each to his own. Let's rise to the occasion The power of a monsoon break United Nations Put it back together to help people wherever Sudan was a genocide, but you said, “Whatever” Turn a blind eye to those who hurt worst And we wonder why these storms are now raging the earth Prayers in the sky and a wish to find solace Preacher man quiet and the poor spit—holla Labor pains of these changing days I change my ways and now I'mma wait for rain Certain things will remain the same For better, for worse, and other things'll wash away [Bridge 2: Akin] Hey, hello Africa. Stand up, tell me how are you? Smile for me. OK don't forget progress Me, you, him, and her alert Work more or less Freedom, one in music Move it into Grey Matters [Verse 3: Akin] I guess everybody voting for Jack ‘cause he got high hopes “It's misery, plus beauty” me and Clyde wrote Yeah, and for them sons and daughters Walk upright. Peace to Jacobi Porter You had my back when they tried me That was '95, dog. I still spit ivy Yeah. And that's poison for them who*es The fast food rap stars—call ‘em Mandy Moore Yeah, and to Diego Iborra Wish you the best—it was love when I saw ya And its Horror, a Rocky Picture showing Bodies on the floor in ruins, n***as not knowing I keep flowing fluid—“Running Water” poems Sketch hope ‘til my wrist break and pen's overflowing Yeah, the pen's overflowing