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bleachers - playboy tre lyrics

[intro]
yeah! now, see, my teachers
they thought i was playin’ around
when i was skippin’ cl-ss
but i was just preparing for my future
yeah!
drop that sh-t, swatts!

[chorus]
i’m in the empty gym, beating on bleachers (bleachers)
tryna get my lyrics right (yeah)
i’m in the empty gym, beating on the bleachers
tryna get my lyrics right (yeah)
i’m in the empty gym, beating on the bleachers (bleachers)
tryna get my lyrics right (yeah)
i’m in the empty gym, beating on the bleachers (bleachers)
tryna get my lyrics right

[verse]
in school, i had a problem (ha!)
nothing but raps and words were in my noggin (yuh)
couldn’t pay attention in cl-ss, i had to log them
turned my schoolbooks to rap pads and journals (yuh)
all about the streets and ways that it’ll burn ya (bow!)
so flammable, man, the life’s an animal (man!)
f-ck genocide, the homicide is cannibal (man!)
because the strong eat the weak (yeah)
and man, it’s been a week
since i even heard my teacher speak (yeah)
f-ck learning ‘bout the white man and cold wars
(f-ck that sh-t, man)
i know loners, nineteen, fighting dope wars (yeah!)
junkies wear long sleeves to hide the dope sores (yeah)
and white folks don’t speak, they close doors (naww!)
so i don’t want to listen no more
f-ck cl-ss, ‘cause it done got so bor-, ing (hahahaha)
i’m in the hall, explor-ing
and i ain’t never in my seat when the bell rings (naw!)
i’m beatin’ on bleachers!
and the history that i recite?
you can’t learn from a teacher (naw!)
i’m talkin’ nines, twenty-fives
lil’ shawty that got k!lled at twenty-five (bam!)
‘cause they say he told twenty lies
got fronted by the man
and tried to run out with twenty pies (d-mn, shawty)
the daily lows, and the highs
same sh-t that make you smile’ll make you cry
street life, gangstas call it paradise (yuh)
in a huddle blowing kisses through a pair of dice (yuh)
tryna get a piece of paradise
but i don’t wanna be stuck
plus, momma told me that i had to fight
and my words are my main weapon (yuh)
when i’m beatin’ on the bleachers
tryna learn me another lesson (ha!)
how to get my bars right, and lyrics tight (yuh)
i got a song that the block ‘bout to hear tonight! (ha-ha-ha-ha)
sorry, teacher, i’m tryna capture something more (sorry, teacher!)
that your mind can’t conceive, and i believe (i believe, baby!)
that my music is my future; i had to leave (had to!)
they say i’m doomed, but i got tricks up my sleeve
so farewell, sar-o-nara, goodbye (sar-o-nara, baby!)
to my future: how ya doing? i’m sayin’ hi (hi!)
what’s the point of havin’ dreams if you never try?
it’s my story; now everybody knows why (man!)

[chorus]
i’m in the empty gym, beating on bleachers (bleachers)
tryna get my lyrics right (yeah)
i’m in the empty gym, beating on the bleachers (bleachers)
tryna get my lyrics right (yeah)
i’m in the empty gym, beating on the bleachers (bleachers)
tryna get my lyrics right (yeah)
i’m in the empty gym, beating on the bleachers (bleachers)
tryna get my lyrics right (yeah)

[outro]
bleachers
yeah
bleachers
yeah
bleachers

- playboy tre lyrics

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