Let it burn another page in the journal
Let it fly off the roof, curtains
Way before I had a booth I knew purple
Way before they had a stage they got curtains
No real shot, my city's half courtin'
They throw up a prayer and hope dudes record it
From a coast where hope had an abortion
See they voted for Obama but we kept snorting
Am I the only one who dreams here?
Im either crazy or I see clear
Scarface said you need people like me
Cuz everyone is scared to be who they wanna be right?
They're terrified of the lime light
But they're all socialites on wine night
Kardash'in with that runway bump
Waiting for a sugar daddy that'll someday come
So til then they doing run way bumps
And that turns into a binge before the sun comes up
A little white, a little blue
A little green to come down from the other two
Hoes got their nose in the air "who the f** is you?!"
Til they find out he's an agent and go and change their tune
And the crowd so underage
So put a cup in the air for your stunna shades
Yeah - I guess they're swearing that they're real
Just about as real as your contacts and nails
East side story east coast journal
The recipe for success is a secrecy here, colonel
Second worst city yo inhabit in the states
But I just call it home so when its getting late
I know 95! North is gunna take me there
I don't need to buy a new life are we everclear?
I ain't running to Manhattan like these other cats
Cuz my city's on my back like religious tats
Interlude monologue hook:
Verse 2:
I swear the grey skies take the skyline
And the rain will just wash away my time in this
City that im from, city where I stay
City where I play I swear this city knows my pain
From the hill to the ville to the island and the Tre
To the downtown radius I know errnody's name
Every street sign is a story that I've made
And every D Bus line is the time on the face
Of the bezel of my watch
As it turns into a screen
I used to get twisted on that corner
I wonder if silk is still the transporter
95 north on that trip from Bridgeport up
He broadcasted the snow like the weather man
Forecaster, Dr Mel minus the better cam
Dudes used to rock pink like "whatever Cam"
Back when the mall on the green had a sweater ban
Security said don't put yah hoods up
No bandanna don't put your hood up
About that time I was spinning in hood clubs
Open Mic img at rock clubs and rappin' at bus stops uhhh
And I always had my guitar wit me
Or 3 for 5's, and 2 dimes call em minaj nic-ies
I feel like I'm narrating a script
This beat is Scorsese I feel like him lately
Cuz your past will always tell your future
And for my scars I do not want your sutchers
Joey