Durte Dom - F.O.T.B lyrics

[Verse 1] On the come up, comes up with rhymes and the rhythm Rhyme what he isn't, minds in a prism In the cla**room but his mind isn't present Presents himself so fly but a peasant At times but the vision clear so invasion A young white kid with dime euphemisms Drive so he's driven needs dire recognition It's do or die, die for decisions [Verse 2] Fresh out the gate, fresh off the boat Poppa worked three jobs before we afloat Foam and some floats, cash for some clothes Before that dough, it was bin and some soap Haven't been there, stories I'm told But now they all think it's diamonds and gold Sparies and chrome, three story home Home alone young parents gotta pay loans Won't let it go, now it's my turn Turned on the lightswitch when momma gave birth Drama gave birth, but I'll rumble through dirt Stumble through shackles and tackle the worst Could've been worse, doin what works Livin each day till it's blood to the nurse Damn what I verse, pray it hopefully surfs Till the day I see my internet burst