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overtime - j-formz lyrics

[chorus: breana marin & (j*formz)]
24/7, i’ve been workin overtime (ey!)
ain’t got that much to show for it (what!?)
still had to sell my soul for it (why?)
just to get by…
2x

[verse 1: j*formz]
man, i ain’t got sh*t to show for all the talent i possess
one of the best, ask: “what separates me from the rest?”
over and over, you could say i’m always down to ride
there ain’t a chance with record labels, i got too much pride
i was put in a position of wishin i’d get signed
then, i was almost over, i stopped spittin them rhymes
swear to god, i’m like 2 different people, sometimes
get it poppin, then count the falling tears one time
but f*ck it, i’ll be me, and then, i’ll do it all again
here i am, there i go, where the f*ck have you been!?
i’m formz, you know i gotta keep them guessin
but i always bring it back, with the crack, no question
that’s just me, and that’s just what i do
we poppin somethin, still, i wanna quit sometimes ii
i hang in there, cause you asked mе to
so light one up, cause you know who i’m passin to
it’s you…
[chorus: breana marin & (j*formz)]

[verse 2: j*formz]
i don’t think you got a clue what i go through to do this
for me, it’s suicidal, for you, it’s just music
and i ain’t gettin money off of nonе of this sh*t
but, i feel obligated, knowin, i could be runnin this sh*t
so, f*ck it, we in here, and ain’t n0body f*ckin wit me
wanna take an l ride? well, son, then, come and get me
i’ll tell you my story, all facts, all truth
these motha f*ckas is liars, then, go and step in the booth
i hate it, cause i know, you ain’t sh*t, and gettin paid
but you and i are opposites, at the end of the day
so, sh*t, you d*ck ridin? i ain’t f*ckin with that
but remember me, a top motha f*cka in rap
not for some gangsta sh*t, or stupid b*tches that i hit
but cause i overdose on sk!lls and was the sickest when i spit
that’s why, so, when i die, know, i was already there
i’ll show them heaven & h*ll before i go anywhere, i swear

[chorus: breana marin & (j*formz)]

[verse 3: j*formz]
so, i hopped on the mic screamin: “staten is back”
and tried my best to get 718 back on the map
that boom bap would just clap with the sickest of raps
but aside from 50 people, no one listened to that
maybe it was just a dream, or just wasn’t what it seemed
cause i thought i was the savior, but, i guess i got schemed
gassed up, like: “go ahead and write that sh*t!”
i had petrone in my cup, and i don’t like that sh*t…
i just wish they would relate to this
cause when i spit, i keep it real as sh*t, and they still hatin this
i see the problem here, i’m too crunk for the game
i’ve cried random tears, drink up, i’m numbin the pain
i’d peep the starting line up comin up for the gigs
and realized, record execs are like undercover pigs
had to slow things down, and get away from the biz
so give him props for bein a real n**** with his
come on…
[chorus: breana marin & (j*formz)]

- j formz lyrics

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