Intro:
Yeah
You can judge me all you want
But if I was to ever lucky enough to have a child
I'd love em enough
To tell em everything
And this is where I would start
[Verse 1: I.K.P.]
Back in the days, before iPads actually
I was trynna be the fierce one, spittin in ya Eardrum
Cuz Kweli did it, spittin nimble and gifted
With the likes of Norah Jones and UGK, simply sufficient
Reticent in a solemn night in my first digs, Jacksonville NC
Nurturing my verses behind a large oak desk
Collecting Soundclick beats with the latest HP
Still I stay cheap
Refusing to buy a bed; a bachelor pad for real
My sister on a foldout couch whenever she would visit
I'm on a futon mattress, ignoring the insistence to build the futon
Rather get my crew on
Trey-Deuce-Deuce
Producing a EP with a few songs
Cheap mic, cheap software, fist full of dreams
Wet behind the ears with no kinda fears
[Hook: I.K.P.]
I do it for the soul
One of the few ways that I feel whole
The creativity
Is vivid wisdom for my liberty
Sometimes the love, I don't feel it
But I'm too invested to give you up so easily
Real sh**!
Ah – I feel like something else got me…
[Breakdown: I.K.P. + Quentin Adams]
La-La-La La-La…
Meraki, come over here to Papi
La-La-La La-La…
La-La-La La-La…
Waaa, Waaa!
Sometimes I get crazy baby girl you gotta watch me
La-La-La La-La…
[Verse 2:]
Trynna be the fierce one spittin in ya eardrum
With the lifestyle I live, you couldn't compare none
Luring other Marines to take pictures in their underwear
Claiming I was a photographer and nothing weird
Was going on
A lonely kid with money to blow
After a failed relationship, and they ain't even know
Got that House In Virginia, stayed essentially celibate
Wasn't selling a bit, but I was buying for the hell of it
I used to ride thru
Wilmington, Fayetteville, Raleigh, Charlotte
Blowing wind in the face of caution
Trynna be cordial through online dating
They would just talk my ear off; I was patient
Meanwhile, scoping my neighbor on the low
Saturdays, shirtless, waxing his black Monte Carlo
Swapping glimpses, timid, I wouldn't draw close
Peeking through venetian blinds, refinancing my car loan
[Repeat Hook]
[Breakdown: I.K.P. + Quentin Adams]
La-La-La La-La…
Meraki, come over here to Papi
La-La-La La-La…
La-La-La La-La…
Waaa Waaaa!
Sometimes I get crazy lil man you gotta watch me
La-La-La La-La…
[Bridge: Quentin Adams]
To my unborn child
When he asks me how
How I made it
How I made it
Keepin it real, keepin it real (Yeah, Yeah, yeah)
[?]
[Verse 3:]
More positivity, less bullsh**
More brimstones thrown for less truth from the pulpit
I was trynna be the fierce one, spittin in ya eardrum
Kweli and T.I. in my veins, I fear none
Especially when I heard Kwe “Give Em Hell”
Religion getting skittish when in reference to my existence
And this is how I conceived my artistic mission
And this is how I perceived my personal discipline
Turning out the females at open mics
Alongside Gemynii Evolving as she stole the nights
Only my fervency turn curses into blessings
Only my urgency turn near-d**h to new life
Viral meningitis couldn't divert my messages
And a doomed bus trip in Honduras didn't make me lose sight
Eardrum, bumpin in my Chrysler
Metaphysical vibes heighten to enlightenment
Flowing the nicest through fiber optic bandwidth
And more testicular fortitude than you can manage
[Hook Outro: I.K.P. + Quentin Adams]
I do it for the soul
One of the few ways that I feel whole
The creativity
Is vivid wisdom for my liberty
Sometimes the love, I don't feel it
But I'm too invested to give you up so easily
Real sh**!
Ah – I feel like something else got me…
La-La-La La-La…
Something else got me…
Something else got me…
La-La-La La-La…