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(альбом: A Style Not Quite Free - 2021)

Aw man, fuck that shit I've been with it
I was grinding from the sun up to sun down for Mississippi
On the late night, ain't much more that you could tell me
Ain't much that I ain't sold that you could sell me
Out of the kitchen I'm whipping something to change up
Calling up the radio only for them to hang up
Frustration boiling, I harbor and let it linger
Hit the booth and burn the perfume from all of the anger
Goddamn, when I'm on, they gotta pay up
Every motherfucking pot that I weigh up
Roaches in our hotel, I gotta stay up
One day, God gon' answer my prayers
Angels watch over me in my city
In case a hater want my place then come get it
I never wanted more than I needed, just tryna maintain
Make a couple plays and show my brothers the same thing
Ride clean even if it was a plain Jane
I used to be on foot trynna chase change
A meal a day will get me through the trenches
A pack of ramen noodles, Faygo drank ain't fulfilling
But fuck it, if the next step is begging for a biscuit
In the soup line of the church house kitchen
I put the pieces together, lo and behold
I know the game's a rabbit hole but how far does it go?
To the money, perhaps
Financial freedom is far from the trap
Far from the "fuck yous" and fraudulent daps
Far from the city, you might need a map to get where I'm at
The only time you ever see me drop a pen
Long as there's breath in my lungs, I keep going in
Long as 11 ain't the mark, I'll be at a 10
Forever Multi to the very end