Lonnie Liston Smith - September 7th lyrics

*Words of advice over the phone* I hear the beat and start crying It's quarter past 4 I'm on the corner still trying I quarterback it all, just trying to make my quota A stranger on this corner so I barely make a quarter back I'm at the condo with Cardo Apartment in Parkdale that's where I do my recording Meetings with Solo, that's my shooter up in Sotto & Sotto In the 6 but it ain't OVO though Money Team ain't no squares in my oval I shine around the world b**h I'm global* At the shows meeting fans taking photos Barely making rent off the show dough Back when I would smoke with Lim he'd teach me how to cope with things He told me cut the gra** and don't you let the cobras in He could have been Kobe with a little coaching But on my culture that's my n***a we'll be close again My auntie walking with a cane I'm walking through the rain I've barely got a dollar to my name Every dollar I would gain, would be the same dollar I'd deposit to the game I charge it to the game Baby mama stressing I'm counting down the days, she told me count my blessings I'd rather count the paper, mama call the reverend Like I need Jesus, there's things that need addressing Like why I ain't got no deal My baby brother off the pill, I want to fight him that's my blood for real I guess he likes the thrill My bigger brother kind of liked it too He in the bin now and I ain't even writing to him I got my own problems I got my daughter in December It's edging on November Can't even make the rent out my apartment in September Been broke since like forever So if ya' n***a ever hit a lick I can't remember What the feeling is like I wonder what a million is like All my n***as in the building tonight Ready to make a k**ing tonight I could chill or peel a cap, n***a that's life I could seal a pack, deliver that, and deal with the strife Or I could stomach that and cry into my pillow tonight I punk n***as, black punk n***a for life What's up with n***as? The cost of living, I know they livid Sean Leon, the Corleone, my core frigid *More advice over the phone* On point with every sentence, like I'm fencing On guard, so it's offensive when you say I'm next then Like I ain't Wayne Gretzky meets Bruce Wayne meets Hussein I got that bomb, I'm 2 Chainz meets Wu-Tang I'm Pootie-tang when the pistols pop, her p**y came If you're dissing, don't be sneaking, say my name I'm from the era of sh**ty virals and cheapened fame I fall in love with a moment I'll never need again I hope I see it with my friends before I see the end Until we meet again It's over