Intro:
I got homie's only eatin' when they fall through
Same ones giving me they cash to get inside this booth
Believe with this surgeon at the reigns, it all could change if they could speak their truth
And I'm inclined to believe ‘em. My vision too
Same time I think I may see these beats from a different view
Without these 808's I can't convey emotion
Wells up quick, now I'm choking
Hoping if I focus and the timing right
I mean the time is right, it'll come through what is spoken
And the cycle rewind
Bridge:
Just like that, could it really be just like that
With the city on my back from the booth in my basement?
Only problem is to make it real, I can't fake sh**
Verse 1:
So to be real I can't take sh**
Really sick and tired of being told I'm running late, sh**…
And you say I sweat the small sh**
But it's symptomatic of bigger patterns you won't break
And no one in this world could make a man budge from the sludge but God or a damn earthquake
But let me chill, I'm going hard though
This beat so smooth should make me want to hit a cold note
But it makes me think of you so, I guess that just means it makes it ebb and flow
In a range of emotion, strange emotion
Overall, I don't know where I'm going
Pre-Chorus:
Late Night Convo
Sax for the high notes
Hell yea
Comes to these beats I know what to do
But when it comes to you I haven't got a clue
Chorus:
This sound like a late night convo
Low ba**, sax for the high notes
I know what to do with that
Hell yea, I know what to do with that
Comes to these beats I know what to do
Comes to you I haven't got a clue
I haven't got a clue
Bridge:
Just like that, could it really be just like that
With the city on our back from the booth in our basement?
Only problem is to make it real, we can't fake sh**
Verse 2:
Am I the only one for you, or the best option?
Not to start something, but don't ask for nothing
Were you to meet another me, but from the street and with better teeth
Mastery in sheets, would I still be the only chick you picture as your queem?
Thoughts like these they plague me, King
Your open doors bring breezes, King
Truths your sword don't let it rust in it's sleeve now, King
I've been praying for the day that you could lead me, King
That you would say the words first without deceivment, King
That we would yield unto the city such achievement, King
Pre-Chorus:
Late Night Convo
(And you believe it, King.)
Sax for the high notes
(You know I mean it, King.)
Hell yea
(I just need for you to see it, King)
Comes to these beats I know what to do
(Approach the King of Kings and appropriate the thing that's really freedom, King
That's really freedom, King.)
But when it comes to you I haven't got a clue
Chorus:
This sound like a late night convo
Low ba**, sax for the high notes
I know what to do with that
Hell yea, I know what to do with that
Comes to these beats I know what to do
Comes to you I haven't got a clue
I haven't got a clue
Hell Yea
Comes to these beats I know what to do
Comes to you I haven't got a clue
I haven't got a clue