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a.p.m. (fireside vent one) - just j lyrics

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[intro: just]
nah, but you know, um, besides all of that, like uh, i really learned a lot this year. well not even this year, like, every year, like it’s just been…i’ve just been looking around at like, at “the system” i guess you wanna call it? at first it didn’t make sense why, why the outrage was as big as it was, to me. and you just have a bunch of people looking for leaders and everybody lost, and yeah, it was, i mean, i wrote this a while ago but, it makes more sense now then what it did then. cause i was less enlightened then, but, uh, it goes, how does it go..?

[verse 1: just]
just won’t
pull triggers in front of my n-ggas
and/or in front of yours
closing caskets don’t mean opening doors, i can’t focus
it ain’t cause my mother never whipping a ford
it’s cause i’m looking at sh-t i can’t afford. you don’t see it
look up, see how high we done climbed?
you’re either shooting hoops or people
selling drugs or a rhyme
the way that it’s set up the outcome is still a crime
lifestyle feeds addictions, pray the fiends come in due time
you should, come closer to my mind
i’ve been plotting leads for so long that my -ss got left behind
n0body knows the name, if thats the case, then please rewind
so you can see just when i mention that i’m right inside the line
seventeen on my wrist, seventeen on my d.o.b
couple slits away from chilling, chilling with g.o.d
coping from running from dope, they hoping that he o.d
modern slaver-modern slav-slavery-slavery pric-
sounds like, a lot of nonsense
close doors, keep an open conscience
high school is such a stupid contest i can’t even talk to people if the topic complex, so
should i, sit down and shut up?
they lift, but don’t compare to all the sh-t i put up
get hit, with no hooks, because the verse is enough
arresting boys so young, won’t even let ’em get cuffed
arresting boys so young, they wrist won’t fit in the cuff
am i spittin’ enough, or is you feelin’ enough?
words like charity-work, but i ain’t giving a f-ck
about this way of life that’s hidden so we stealing the stuff
walk your way out the hood, some n-ggas still in the strut
ain’t no f-cking “how-to’s” cause man, this sh-t is a muck
walk in that insane lane, ’till you get hit with a truck
paralyzed, but that was after you found out you was stuck
they force these kids not to love no more
they unaware n-ggas don’t wanna be thugs no more
people still wishing obama was up for four more
families can’t even grow, so why the f-ck we got four doors?
so why the f-ck we got four doors, if we can’t raise a generation that comes out more pure?
they say “study and make it”, we can’t make our way to the board
cops be shootin’, and take back the guns they gave us before?
man, this sh-t is a trap
you got rappers glorifying lives they live in the trap
telling us to write raps and to sleep with a strap
even though they made it out and don’t provide us with facts
on how the f-ck they got out of here
whats the way out?
maybe we’ll sell bricks cause that’s how the options weigh-out
still on the same page, internet might change the layout
still feel the same pain, only your brains in the chains now
man, that’s only the beginning
we might walk with all this strain but if we living then we winning
all we got to do to dodge an l is make a difference
and yeah, i know you heard i’m just hoping that you listened

[outro: just]
this is not then, you know? this is now, this is…hopefully this isn’t forever. hopefully this isn’t even like two years from now. i don’t know but, i’m just…i just want you to think about that, you know?

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