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i don't know - eom lyrics

[hook]
i don’t know what you been told
but life is hard and the world is cold
it ain’t gon’ get no better no time soon
it ain’t gon’ get no better
it ain’t gon’ get no better
it ain’t gon’ get no better no time soon
i don’t know

[verse 1]
chilling at the [?] with my man named [?]
smoking out dude type of cat stay [?]
eyes like windex, red as a crayon
trees in the flesh like it’s something that he spray on
no baby momma, no arrest reports
no running through chicks, no s-x for sport
no bills overdue and a college degree
i mean god d-mn son, that’s better than me
yeah, but it ain’t all about the money
the [?] up honeys, the cars that i’m driving
there’s n-ggas in the streets k!lling shorties ain’t surviving
look at these n-ggas these dudes idolizing
(i mean, that’s why you be smoking?) you god d-mn right
i’m afraid to leave to leave my motherf-cking house at night
(but that’s the rules of the gutta)
stupid motherf-cker, they’ll shoot you over onion rings
and think that’s right

[hook]

[verse 2]
n-ggas love being n-ggas, but n-ggas ain’t sh-t
man, f-ck these n-ggas and they ride or die b-tch
i keep one in the hand and twelve in the clip
i own a coffee shop dude, i don’t want no sh-t
yeah but that’s life in the city, and it cold to survive
with the snakes right beside you
and the rats right behind you
man that’s bullsh-t n-gga, go across the tracks
but if i try to get some peace, they raise my tax
(fam, fam you need to stop b-tching)
b-tch, you need to listen
i stay getting high cause i hate clear vision
i don’t date much these ratchet -ss women
see me riding something foreign, thinking they could make a living
fake -ss, fake hair, att-tude fakey
f-ck me one time now she want my [?]
all up on the [?]
hashtag i’m a bad b-tch and n-ggas don’t make me

[hook]

[verse 3]
it’s 2014 and cops still k!lling us
dead in the street and don’t n0body give a f-ck
tanks in the parking lot, snipers on the roof
and all we ever get is [?] proof
(god d-mn, [?])
too much to go wrong so i get high, all alone at home
i stack my chips, push a live -ss whip
bring a biddy back home just to bust my sh-t
that’s real, heavy -ss script
p-ss that beat, let me blaze that sh-t
i don’t got the time for stressing over money
flexing in the streets like a god d-mn dummy
trying to prove i’m cool so that everyone would want me
treat me like a show dog, take me ’round and flaunt me
i’m doing just fine though, my solo and [?]
now grab your keys and let’s ride, son
we ran out of wave

- eom lyrics

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