craft - foolnews lyrics
{chorus}:
i’m workin on my craft for a minute.. (x2)
you don’t have to ask “what’s a minute?”
cuz everyhting i grab– that’s infinite (x2)
{verse 1}: woa..laugh like it isn’t
they told me i’m the best and rap was my mission
how my adolescence crafted my vision
now a pessimistic act of religion ? o’h nooo
never had to practice efficiency. i just saw a path
and i’m skipping it. i just hap-hazardly did it
and they don’t have half of the vision , oh no
never even had to ask for permission , hands-down
stand out , i don’t ask for attention. man , wow
“gangsters”? they can have the position
i do my own thing: get the m-sses to listen. cuz
sometimes all i have is the energy, to force you to
have to remember me
like the universe has any sympathy, we’ll all be pushing up gr-ss
in a century. so. ponder that for a minute
think about it, read about it could you
grasp the percentage of the
generations lost? you ain’t that
independent. the milky way’s big but
imma matter within it, cuz
{chorus}
aye aye aye , duck and its over, if you think
i’m bouta fail, the discussion is over
if i see you duck , then its over, think i’m bouta to fail?
the discussion is over. speaking of that, i’m dreaming of
that, i’m leaving a map, the day i die that leads to my raps
i’m even perhaps nuttier than beavis and that’s the
reason i’m mad. this p-ssion isn’t “easy” to have
you oughta see the meaning in that, they’re seeing
me rap concerned that i need sleep or a nap
they say “it troubles you.” and that
“you need to relax”. —- i’d rather give myself a w
and leave it at that
so, i’m working on my craft for a minute
i thought i’d never see that man p-ss ‘fore i’m 20
now i feel like i’m the last of the city. if that ain’t
true i’m the last of what was many
i don’t think i’m bouta have kids..that’s it
if they can’t look back in the past tense, and be
fortunate for things grandad did
i want a future where no money problem happens
i’m somebody that you don’t know, won’t know
if i never tell my story , put down the remote, please don’t
music is my own show, hold on, so close and i’m bouta
show the whole globe so
don’t go…
don’t go..
don’t go..
aye , ugh
i’m about to make an aesthetic and they could’ve bet that i’m
taking every way that i’ll get it, i’m saving a debit, the visa card
pay for my medicine imma buy a leotard for all 8 of my laters
my names flipping everwhere:
station and web and it’s safer to bet that i’m crazed
i’m behaving indefinite , making a mess– the rap game’s
basically bread and i’m making em panic–
a taste, with no way to forget it
{chorus} x2
{don’t go, tell me that light’s will change, tell me that you
feel the same, and we’ll stay here.forever.}}}
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